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THE TELESCOPE 







OR. 



Z3J. 



SACRED VIEWS 



OF 



THINGS PAST, PRESENT, AND TO COME. 



- 



By SAMUEL NOTT, Juwr. 



It is good that we transplant the instruments of fancy into religion. — Jeremy Taylor. 
Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell 
Of fancy, my internal sight. — Milton. 



BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED BY PERKINS & MARVIN, 

114, Washington Street. 



1832. 



.Mir 



Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1832, 

By Perkins & Marvin, 
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



3C6- 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

The Voice of the Grave : or, Youthful Forecast, ... 5 

Boston, on her Two Hundredth Anniversary, .... 19 

A Vision of the Last Night in the Year, 37 

The Heir of the World, 46 

Philadelphia, and the Sunday School Union, 63 

The Field of Death, 83 

New York, and the American Bible Society, .... 90 

The Box Opened, ...... \ 105 

The Heir of Heaven, 112 

London 5 a Retrospect of the British and Foreign Bible 

Society, 136 

The Ganges, and the Mississippi, 163 



THE TELESCOPE, 



THE VOICE OF THE GRAVE; OR YOUTHFUL 
FORECAST. 

The grave at which we are going to listen, 
was dosed in the year 1758. The history of 
the man, who was then buried out of sight of 
the living, gives to its silence, and darkness, and 
corruption, a sacred eloquence. He who has 
been hidden so long from the eyes of men, came 
into being about the beginning of the last cen- 
tury, in one of the ancient villages on the banks 
of the Connecticut. Almost one hundred and 
thirty years have passed, since his parents rejoiced 
over a new born son ; how helpless in that in- 
fant frame ! how ignorant in that infant mind ! 
Fond parents sheltered and cherished and guided 
him in infancy and childhood, and blessed his 
youth with the means and opportunities of know- 
1 



6 THE TELESCOPE. 

ledge and religion. From that helpless infancy 
he arose into life, endowed with powers of thought, 
which made him, for thirty years, the ornament 
of his country, and of his kind. After fifty-five 
years spent on this earth, he passed suddenly 
from the sight of men ; leaving a name which 
has not yet lost its lustre, nor passed from the 
mouths of men. It is yet an early stage in the 
progress of his immortal spirit. Not yet has he 
doubled his earthly career ; but even now we 
may pause upon his grave, and hear from its 
silent chambers, his monitory, his encouraging 
voice : if, like the long-dead Abel, he yet speaketk. 
It was from the height of honor that he went 
down to the grave. Having stood among the 
great men of his day, he had reached one of the 
most responsible and honored stations in the 
land, when in a few months he fell a victim to 
a loathsome and contagious disease, and went 
down to the grave suddenly, as helpless as the 
dying infant of a day ; as separate from the con- 
gregation of the living ; as confined to his own 
narrow house, his solitary cell ; yet in honor 
still, amidst the clustered worthies of former and 
later times. Turn traveller aside, wait a stage 
or two, that thou mayest walk and meditate in 



THE TELESCOPE. 7 

that retired and lonely cemetery. Sons of sci- 
ence and the prophets, spend your vespers there, 
or listen to the matins of the songsters, who 
at early dawn, sing to their Maker, as if about 
their graves they caught the songs of just men 
made perfect. In that hour of stillness and 
solitude, when the evening shades are closing 
thee in from the near-by village ; or when the 
dawn reveals slowly the record on those chiseled 
tablets, ere yet the observant world has waked 
from its slumbers, choose this grave-yard walk : 
ambitious youth, place thy knee upon the turf 
which parts the monuments of the learned dead, 
and recline thy head upon that which bears 
the date, 1758 .... and thou wilt hear a mysteri- 
ous voice like that from the Jirst of human dead. 
Listen ; thou wilt learn thy frailty : thou wilt 
hear report of the undying spirit, by what choice 
it rose to a house not made with hands, eternal 
in the heavens. One voice thou wilt hear in 
harmony with the clustered just. 

Here for nearly fourscore years the grass has 
grown and withered. Near thrice three thou- 
sand times the sun has arisen and poured its 
light over this dark grave ; that eye has not 
been pleased to behold the sun : nor that body 



8 THE TELESCOPE. 

sprung forth to enjoy " the cool, the fragrant, and 
the silent air." The eye, the limbs, the whole 
frame have become dissolved. The corpse has 
no coffin, no death-dress; the bones are crumbled 
or crumbling into dust. If the spade should 
violate that grave, nought would be found but 
dust and fragments of the great and good, whose 
name was upon the tongue of our fathers four- 
score years ago. Now, he speaketh, listener, 
in thine ear, at least this word, " Corruption, 
thou art my father ; worm, thou art my sister 
and my mother. The grave is my house. I 
have made my bed in darkness. Whatsoever 
thy handjindeth to do, do it with thy might, for 
thou art hastening to the grave, where there is 
neither wisdom, knowledge, nor device" 

But hark again ! Within that silent chamber 
lie the remains of a frame whose plan was writ- 
ten in the book of the Almighty ; made in secret, 
curiously wrought, fearfully and wonderfully 
made : fitted for the abode and the growth of an 
immortal spirit. Sitting within its secret cham- 
ber, that spirit maintained, by mysterious con- 
nection with the corporeal senses, an intercourse 
with surrounding scenes ; with the very thoughts 
of men; with the character, and deeds, and re- 



THE TELESCOPE. 9 

lations of the Eternal God. In its very boyhood, 
it kenned the secrets of philosophy, which sages 
since have discovered and divulged. During the 
short space of fifty-five years, the man arose, from 
the ignorance of new-born infancy, to an exten- 
sive knowledge of things human and divine : to 
a range and power of thought, which gave him, 
both living and dead, a commanding influence 
over men : which promises to reach to all nations, 
and to all times. Of the stroke which laid in 
the dust this curious frame, we have the biograph- 
ical record, the chiseled memorial; and of that 
spirit to which it ministered, which grew beyond 
its growth, his works will repeat, " Secundus 
nemini mortalium,"* when this marble record 
has wasted into dust. Where is that mighty 
spirit 1 Is it lost amidst the dust of its former 
dwelling ? Listener : dost thou not hear its 
voice from amidst the spheres 1 The dust has 
returned to the earth as it was, but the spirit 
unto God who gave it. 

Listener ! hast thou read the earthly history 
of the spirit which, almost fourscore years ago, 
returned to God who gave it ? — the testimonies 
of a moral and spiritual life ; of a fountain which 

* Second to no mortal 

l* 



10 THE TELESCOPE. 

sprung up, strong and clear, of everlasting life ; 
of a heart humble and contrite, already visited 
and revived by the High and Lofty One ! Canst 
thou doubt that when that spirit parted from its 
clayey tabernacle, it spread its wings and soared 
away into holier regions, and dwells fast by the 
throne of God, with angels and the spirits of just 
men made perfect ? Amidst this morning silence, 
sure there is a voice, in sweet harmony with these 
carols all around : Though the earthly house be 
dissolved, I have a building of God, a house not 
made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 

Yet hearken again, beloved youth : the sun is 
not yet risen, though the dawn brightens in the 
eastern sky. The villagers have not yet come 
forth from their chambers. Listen yet again to 
the voice of the grave ; and hear of that faith 
by which the dead obtained testimony that he 
pleased God ; by which he offered himself up to 
God, a living sacrifice. Hark ! soft as the sing- 
ing of the birds ; fresh as the dew of the morn- 
ing ; cheerful as the light of the sun after the 
darkness of the night ; the voice is mellow as the 
tones of youth ; — it is the voice of youthful 
piety, choosing, in the dawn and morning of ex- 
istence, a day without a night, an everlasting 



THE TELESCOPE. H 

day. Is it memory ? or is the voice repeated in 
thine ear amidst the beauties of the morning ? 
" Resolved, That I will do whatsoever I think 
to be most for the glory of God, and my own 
good, profit and pleasure, in the whole of my 
duration, without any consideration of the time, 
whether it be now, or never so many myriads of 
ages hence." 

Sublime resolve ! What forecast for futurity, 
for being endless and progressive ! for a soul to 
grow forever as it grew from infancy, to this 
power of thought, and forecast, and decision ! 
Be it thine : that when thy body shall lie moul- 
dering and mouldered, thy spirit may dwell on 
high, rich in the fruits of forethought so sub- 
lime ! 

Ah listener : thy heart revolts. Thy fancy 
has already soared away to some mountain 
height, whence thou canst see all the glories of 
the world, and call them thine. Pause, then, 
and hold controversy with thy deceived heart, 
until thy voice can sound in harmony with the 
sainted dead. He held that controversy, and 
gave example of victory. Think not, he found 
decision easy. Had he no sinfulness ? or lived 
he when there was no tempter to encourage and 



12 THE TELESCOPE. 

beguile ? Had he no aided wing of fancy, no 
bewildered eye ? Did not the tempter try to de- 
ceive the youth with blessings which must perish 
with his day ? No doubt he looked, and wished 
for a moment, and again and again chose the 
fleeting present, and forgot the ever-during future, 
and preferred a momentary glare to the whole 
weight of future glory. No doubt some plain 
demand of conscience and of faith seemed so 
grievous, as to incline his heart to give up the 
kingdom of heaven, as that young man did who 
went away sorrowful, from the Saviour, because 
his great possessions were demanded. How 
fearful of a frown ! How fond of fame ! How 
ready to give himself the glory of his growing 
powers ! How cheered with the thought of 
higher and higher honors ! How ready was the 
young immortal, for a morsel, to sell his everlast- 
ing birthright ! and yet how often was he disap- 
pointed ; mocked by lying vanities — sick with 
desires unsatisfied — tossed with the waves of 
sinful passion ; of pride, or envy, or self-love, or 
anger, or sensual desires ! Thus Satan foiled 
himself, and opened the door of blessings to the 
soul. The inexperienced youth saw the decep- 
tion, and triumphed over the deceiver. As he 



THE TELESCOPE. 13 

looked around from his fancied height, and saw 
the devil's picture of the world, the divine reply 
sprung to his lips, " Get thee hence, Satan ; for 
it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy 
God, and him only shalt thou serve." 

Blessed season of discovery — of triumph over 
the usurped government of the prince of the 
power of the air ! when the kind angels, always 
hovering over him, and helping the fearful strug- 
gles of the young immortal, found opportunity^ to 
aid the wings of fancy, as she flew up to the 
" Delectable Mountains," and to hold steadily 
the prospect-glass as the eye looked away into 
the distant future ! when the spirit, long striving 
to enter, was welcomed to a fixed abode in the 
troubled heart. What aids were there, who can 
tell ? What hosts of witnesses to the Spirit's 
entry to the heart, melted to humbleness and 
contrition by his rising beams. Would that the 
grave might whisper the hour when the resolve 
kindled into flame to shine through the ages of 
eternity ! Perhaps it was when weariness and 
night clouded his soul with gloom ; or when 
lightning and tempest filled him with awe and 
terror ; or when, in that pleurisy, he felt justly 
seized by the hand of the Almighty, and shaken 



14 THE TELESCOPE. 

over the devouring pit, and was forced to seek, 
" as he never sought before ;" or rather, when 
listening to the still small voice of rebuke and 
kindness, amidst the silent grove, to which after- 
wards he listened so often, so attentive. There, 
alone with God, seeing Him among the trees, in 
the cool of the day, in every moving branch, in 
every rustling leaf, in every blade of grass, and in 
the flood of light — hearing his reproving, winning 
voice, in the soft breeze, as it passed through the 
trembling forest — when air and sky, and grow- 
ing nature, and the vocal birds, gave token of 
Him who filleth immensity with his presence : — 
In such a calm and quiet solitude, when the 
tempests of the outer world were lulled to sleep, 
then, perhaps a calm came in upon the tempest 
of the soul, a sweet and awful stillness in which 
God was heard speaking with a father's tender- 
ness, " My son give me thine heart:" and eternity 
was seen proceeding in all its endlessness from 
the passing moment, and receiving its everlasting 
character from the passing thoughts. 

Then perhaps the conflict ended in that sub- 
lime decision, I will do, at every fleeting mo- 
ment, that which shall be most for God's glory, 
and my own good, whether now, or never so 



THE TELESCOPE. 15 

MANY MYRIADS OF AGES HENCE. How lovely, 

then, how heavenly, must that youthful face 
have shone, which bore in its maturity, a youth- 
ful loveliness, an aspect fit for heaven, which 
even human art has been able to preserve, in its 
ten thousand copies ! Methinks the angels must 
have paused a moment in joy and admiration, 
ere they flew from the field of conflict where 
that victory was won : ere they bore away the 
golden copy of that Resolve, and made heaven's 
arches ring with their triumphant songs. 

Sure, as he returned, and went forward in the 
pursuits of mortal life, filled with the high ambi- 
tion, of seeking God's glory and his own best 
good, for myriads and myriads of ages, min- 
istering spirits kept about his path ; a Father's 
kindness chastened and cheered him that he 
might be a partaker of his holiness ; the High 
and lofty One, who inhabiteth eternity, made 
that humbled spirit his dwelling place. No 
doubt the daily prayer was lifted up, " Lead me 
not into temptation, but deliver me from evil :" 
until, having been guided by the counsel of a 
Father, he was received to glory. While he 
lived, how steady, how bright, how increasing, 
were his piety towards God and his good will to 



16 THE TELESCOPE. 

men ! What comforts cheered him in perplexity, 
and care, and sorrow ! And when amidst the 
brightest promise of his honored life, his earthly 
prospects were suddenly darkened in death, how 
pleasantly he died with these last words upon his 
lips, Trust in God and ye need not fear ! 

Listener! does thy heart revolt? Let thy 
fancy soar : Angels will bear thee up. Set thy 
feet once on the delectable mountains. Look 
beyond thy funeral day, when thy limbs will be 
stiff, thy eyes closed, thy senses vanished : — be- 
yond thy mouldered body. Take forethought 
for the coming century, and that which shall 
come afterwards and yet again. Think how 
thou wilt cheer thyself in the dark valley and 
shadow of death ; how thou wilt be joyful when 
thou hast just escaped from the body of corrup- 
tion ; how thou wilt employ thyself, when earth's 
service shall be paid for a thousand years, and 
earth's hymns mingle in the sweet harmony with 
the hymns above ; how thou wilt rejoice amidst 
the wonders of the last day, and along the end- 
less, endless path, on which thy immortal spirit 
has begun to travel ! Ah ! how thy mind 
changes. Methinks I hear thy voice, soft as the 
singing of the birds, fresh as the dew of the 



THE TELESCOPE. 17 

morning, cheerful as the light of the sun, in the 
mellow tones of youthful piety — I will live to 
day and hereafter, as shall be most for 
God's glory, and my own best good, whether 
now, or never so many myriads of ages 

HENCE. 

Look! the sun is bursting from the east. 
Thine angel is speeding his way on the wings of 
the morning, and thy resolve, written in the 
golden beams, will be registered in a moment in 
the archives of heaven. Go back to thy cham- 
ber, and pray, and study, and live for eternity ! 
Sons of Nassau ! As ye float by an unbroken 
stream of youth, on your way to water and re- 
fresh the land, listen to the voice of the 
grave. Or if ye fear at early dawn and under 
the day star to listen to that mysterious voice, at 
midnight hour look upon the wall ! Perhaps 
amidst the gloom, thou wilt see the hand of Jona- 
than Edwards, writing the sublime resolution of 
his youth ; and amidst that stillness thy heart will 
rise to a resolve for myriads of ages ! 

Sons of the Prophets, listen to that voice. 

Read that writing on the wall : and as ye go 

forth, oh men of God, follow after righteousness, 

godliness, faith, love, patience, meekness. Fight 

2 



18 THE TELESCOPE. 

the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life. 
Trust in God and ye need not fear. 

Youthful reader, wherever thou art, at the 
desk, in the field, on the exchange, at the toi- 
lete, at the social party — listen to the voice of 
the grave : or if amidst temptation thou miss 
that voice, in the calm hour of night read thy 
duty and thy safety in living characters around 
thy bed, and resolve for eternity. 

Traveller! if thou turn aside to visit the grave 
of Edwards, amidst the illustrious Presidents of 
the College of New Jersey ; obey the counsel 
inscribed on the marble almost fourscore years 
ago. Abi viator, et pia sequere vestigia. 
Go, traveller, and follow his footsteps ; seek 
God's glory and thy best good, now, and for 
myriads and myriads of ages hence. 



BOSTON, ON HER TWO HUNDREDTH ANNIVER- 
SARY, SEPTEMBER 17th ; 1830. 

As the sun arose, the years that were passed 
began to be numbered by the artillery. The re- 
peated thunder seemed the knell of the departed 
century. The silence that followed, was yet 
more awful ; leaving without memorial the pre- 
ceding century mingled in the common mass of 
passed time ; the preceding generations lost in 
the common multitude of the dead. 

At the hour appointed for the rendezvous of 
the living population, I joined the multitude who 
kept this holiday ; — the very thought of which 
raised in my imagination visions of decay and 
change, of past and future, strange as if they 
were dreams, and yet as true and real as the 
ever changing crowd before me. 

I had scarce taken my stand, midway in the 
crowd, in front of that noble pile, which shows 
its elevated dome far above the common height 
of the city habitations, towering above the an- 
cient summit of Beacon hill, when the clock 



20 THE TELESCOPE. 

struck nine : announcing to the gathered and 
gathering throng, that another century was 
already speeding its flight ! that ere the pageantry 
began, unwearied time had been measuring off 
the hours which were hastening the century to 
its close ! 

The Mall, made for spectacle ; an amphithe- 
atre formed by nature for the display and sym- 
pathies of multitudes ; raised yet higher with its 
artificial galleries, its windows, piazzas, porticos, 
reflecting the splendors of that brilliant morn, 
and receiving the reflection of the surrounding 
slopes, covered with gardens and villas and vil- 
lages and farms ; the mall, from its highest pin- 
nacles of art down its gentle slope, and in scat- 
tered, changing groups over its noble lawn, pre- 
sented a living miniature of the living world. 
There, were the servants of the church and state, 
with church and state themselves; the sciences 
and the arts with their professors and their prac- 
titioners ; commerce and husbandry ; the aged, 
as if to bid their last adieu to the living world ; 
the young, in all their gaiety and beauty, with 
the four thousand blossoms* of the early morning, 
to meditate on life's fleeting scene, and to say, 

* The public Schools. 



THE TELESCOPE. 21 

"We too must die." As I looked over this field, 
scattered with decaying plants, covered with 
ripened fruit, and spring and summer blossoms 
in such bloom and richness, as betokened immor- 
tality, I knew these bodies could not be incor- 
ruptible until first they had wasted into dust ; 
and I said, surely in sympathy with living thou- 
sands, " We must die, as those who lived in cen- 
turies before us." Then, fevers, and fluxes, and 
consumptions, and apoplexies, and accidents, and 
old age, and lightning, and tempest, seemed 
flitting before my imagination ; and all the living 
laid unknowing and unknown in the dust of 
death. Yes, long, long before the morning of 
another century shall arise upon the living world, 
we shall be dead, and our spirits which cannot 
die, will have been borne by the angels to the 
bosoms of our ancestors in glory, or left in their 
chosen misery and sin. 

At that moment of sympathy, I seemed but to 
see what was revealed to every eye ; and to feel 
but the sentiment of every soul. There we stood, 
numbering our days even to four score years, 
and calling them a dream! What wisdom 
sprung up from that one discovery ! The mor- 
alist looked upon his robe, and it was filthy rags : 
2* 



22 THE TELESCOPE. 

The miser saw the canker corroding his silver 
and gold: The ambitious, aiming hiorher in 
paths as various as the multitude before me, 
humbled their high looks and bowed down their 
haughtiness : The sensualist turned his thoughts 
inward in search of an appetite which could feed 
forever on imperishable feasts : The caviller laid 
aside his questions, and with the eagerness of a 
dying man grasped after eternal life ; and even 
the infidel stood aghast, looking earnestly after 
Him who brought life and immortality to light. 
The whole mass of men seemed waking to the 
simple prayer, " So teach us to number our days 
that we may apply our hearts to wisdom. Oh 
satisfy us early with thy mercy, that we may re- 
joice and be glad all our days. Let thy work 
appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their 
children : And let the beauty of the Lord our 
God be upon us !" 

As I recovered from the reverie into which 
these reflections cast me, I looked around for 
some relics of the hand of time ; some abiding 
memorial of the century remembered ; some 
means of sympathy with the departed age. Not 
one, who lived a hundred years ago, not one, was 
there ; not one, on whom I could fix my eyes 



THE TELESCOPE. 23 

and say, You saw the last centennial morning as 
I see this. All who arose that morning from 
their beds, active and vigorous, now lie deep in 
darkness in the city cemeteries, or in surround- 
ing hills and valleys, or scattered through the 
regions of the West, or in the ocean's depths, or 
£>n foreign shores. In the soft breathings of that 
gentle morn, I seemed to hear the whisper from 
the four winds of heaven, " We were, but are 
not!" Yet I saw abiding memorials of the de- 
parted age. These majestic elms, methought, 
stand in the unchanging glory of their kind, un- 
modernized amidst the changeful displays of 
human art ; grown from beauty to sublimity, 
amidst the decay and renewal of human life. 
Our fathers planted them, admired their young 
beauty, and regaled themselves under their tiny 
shades, talking of the distant times, when a 
crowded population would be refreshed under 
their towering tops, and hold sweet converse 
along these embowered walks. These rolling 
lands, these hills and valleys, also, in beauty as 
lasting as the earth, bear over their swelling, 
sinking bosoms, my sympathy with the genera- 
tions who are gone. And this glowing sun, shin- 
ing from its ancient firmament, melts all my 



24 THE TELESCOPE. 

passions into fellowship with our earliest fathers ; 
who chose this spot by its light; and were 
cheered amidst their gloom in establishing for 
the benefit of future times and of other lands, 
the Metropolis of New England. Oh that I 
could indeed sympathise with the Christian dead ; 
that I could glow with their pious ardor, with 
their love of God and man ! These hillocks, 
these shady walks were not wont, in the ancient 
days, to be the way of the ungodly and the seats 
of the scornful : but here, alone or in company, 
sainted spirits walked, meditating, delighting in 
the law of the Lord. Here many an hour of 
Christian fellowship was enjoyed, by those who 
now have fellowship with angels and the spirits 
of the just made perfect. Behind these gentle 
swells, in the secresy of that vale where those 
willows grow, by the side of this still water, 
canopied by the starry host, was the closet of 
joyful contemplation, the chamber of angels' 
visits to the soul, the temple of secret prayer, and 
fellowship with God. Here the Mathers, and 
Sewals, and Princes, and here, too, names un- 
known to fame, impressed the paths with sanctity, 
and tinctured the air with devotion ; and in this 
open oratory, the great master of Christian elo* 



THE TELESCOPE. 25 

quence, offered up the supplications of listening 
thousands, and proclaimed the offers of the gospel. 
But these majestic trees, these everlasting hills 
and vales, this bright and glowing sun, and this 
blue firmament, are not the only representatives 
of the centuries remembered. The fathers are 
living now, in the persons of their children ; the 
good seed which they sowed has not all perished 
in the soil; neither have the tares come up so 
numerous and thick, as to prevent the growth 
and fullness of the wheat. Even now, Boston is 
blessed with the spirit and the power of her early 
fathers. I could almost see again Mather's aged 
saint, and hear renewed, after more than a hun- 
dred years,* the exultation, "I am now going 
to heaven, and I will there tell the faithful which 
are gone long since from New England, that 
though they who gathered our churches are all 
dead and gone, yet the churches are still alive, 
with as numerous flocks of Christians as ever 
were among them." Moreton seemed again to 
say, " Out of these small beginnings, even greater 
things have been produced by his hand who made 
all things out of nothing : and as one small candle 
may light a thousand, so the light here kindled 

* Magnalia, vol. I. p. 83. 



26 THE TELESCOPE. 

hath shone unto many, yea in some sort unto this 
whole nation ; and even unto the whole world."* 
As I stood lost in the crowd, I saw many gifted per- 
sons who were serving God and their generation 
after the example of the fathers of New England ; 
striving earnestly and prayerfully, that at home, 
the grace of God may not be received in vain, 
and that its saving power may be carried forth 
to all heathen nations. Yes, the fathers are 
living again in the persons of their children : 
they are here, who came into the wilderness to 
build the church of the living God ; who labored 
to gather into her hallowed courts, the surround- 
ing Indian tribes. Yes, the Lord hath arisen in 
this latter day, yet more gloriously, upon this 
favored city, and his glory may now be seen 
upon her, now that He has made her the almo- 
ner of the whole land to the Pagan world. " The 
Gentiles are coming to her light, and kings to the 
brightness of her rising." Methought I could 
hear the angels whispering, or softly singing in 
the air, " Lift up your eyes round about and see! 
all they gather themselves together and come 
to thee — thy sons are coming from afar, and thy 
daughters are nursed at thy side." 

* See New England's Memorial 



THE TELESCOPE. 27 

As I lifted up my eye, the crowd around 
seemed lost before me, and far distant scenes 
opened on my view. " Thy towers, Bombay," 
gleamed bright upon my eye. Thy sea-girt 
shores, thy crowded city, thy palm-sheltered sub- 
urbs, thy ever-busy crowds ; the faces, and the 
costumes, and the languages of all nations, were 
before me. Thy noble plain, open from sea to 
sea, was thronged with tens and tens of thou- 
sands, paying their pagan gratitude to Parasu 
Rama, in endless offerings to the calmed ocean. 
Then again thy multitudes amidst unceasing din, 
were forcing their way through all thy streets to 
the sacred water, mystically drowning their per- 
ishable gods. Then again thy thousand fires, 
glaring in the faces of tens and tens of thousands, 
unblushing amidst their indecent songs : fit 
preludes to the universal pantomime of lust. But 
as I looked, my ear caught the dirge of Chris- 
tian compassion sounding plaintive amidst that 
long-continued desolation : Who hath believed 
our report, and to whom hath the arm of the 
Lord been revealed? Yet amidst those plaintive 
tones I heard the voice of prayer, in that lowly 
strain, in which with earnest longings it was 
sent up eighteen years ago. The grass has 
withered. The flower has faded. The suppli- 



28 THE TELESCOPE. 

ants are scattered. Yet the ever-living word 
renews and continues the spirit of prayer and 
praise ; even now procuring blessings for Bom- 
bay. Amidst those vain idolatries, those deluded 
crowds, thy messengers, Boston ! lay the founda- 
tions of the Temple of the Great Supreme. 
The murmur of thy Christian schools is heard, 
and instruction dropping as the rain, distilling as 
the dew, amidst the softer tones of Christian 
music, in that oratory which America has built 
on the coast of Malabar. Ah! the vision 
changes. They are hastening now to the God 
who heareth prayer. The harsh discords, fit for 
the praise of gods who cannot hear, are changing 
into the soft tones of Christian harmony, coming 
up acceptably before the Lord God of Hosts. 
The very streets are cleared of the noisy, unfeel- 
ing gabble, and common speech sounds in the 
melody of faith and hope and love ; and faces, 
meaningless before, glow with the conceptions, 
and designs, and hopes, of heaven-born minds! 

Suddenly, I glanced the spicy groves of Cey- 
lon, where seed buried long in dust, has sprung 
up already, making glad thy reapers, Boston : 
with Fabricius and Swartz, from whose vigorous 
hand seed sown in Tanjore fell even on the 



THE TELESCOPE. 29 

shores of Jaffna. Then I glanced the Pacific 
isles — belting their mountain fires, with fertile 
lands. How strangely did ye make yourselves 
ready to greet the messengers from Boston ! How 
strangely did ye bring your sons and your 
daughters to be nursed at our side ! Thou, too, 
Palestine ! And ye countries and islands of the 
inland sea: Boston shines on you. The sun 
which went down in your western sky, arose on 
us, and now it dawns on you with the promise 
of the morning. As fancy in that rapid flight 
turned homeward, it rested on the fearful, trem- 
bling ones, seen through the thickets of the fo- 
rest ; not with the tomahawk and scalping-knife, 
but at the plough, at the distaff, and the loom ; 
and by night and by day, meditating in the law 
of the Lord. Ye, too, have been fostered by the 
alms which Boston has gathered from the north 
and from the south. Ye, too, have been shel- 
tered by her love. Christian Rulers ! if they 
be the least of those whom the Saviour will 
call his brethren, and place at his right hand 
in the last great assembly, be it your honor and 
your joy to hear Him say, / roamed the forest, 
and ye gave me a home — / was a sufferer, and 
ye cheered me with your love — I was lost, and ye 
3 



30 THE TELESCOPE. 

helped those who came to seek and save me. In- 
asmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of the 
red men, ye did it unto me. 

As I recalled my wandering fancy, and again 
stood fixed in attention upon the scenes before 
me, the chiseled tablets, which used to meet the 
spectator, as he surveyed Boston and its environs 
from the top of Beacon Hill, seemed to enlarge 
their claim upon the sons of the Pilgrims. 
" Americans ! while from this eminence 



FORGET NOT THOSE 
WHO HAVE SECURED TO YOU THESE BLESSINGS. " 
As YOU CAST YOUR EYES TO-DAY OVER 



all nations, revive in your bosoms the 
Christian kindness of your Fathers : and 
let them live again in their faithful chil- 
DREN. Ah ! methinks, within the bosoms of 
the crowd around, the future scene is hidden. 
We shall beautify or mar the prospect which 
future and again future ages will call up. The 
seeds which we plant will yield a harvest on the 
next, and on the next centurial day, in this and 
other lands. Oh help us, Father of mercies, by 
thine angel ministries, by thine indwelling Spirit, 



THE TELESCOPE. 31 

to know for ourselves, and to display to the world 
the grace of God which bringeth salvation. Make 
us the instruments of turning the wilderness into 
a fruitful field, until glories which exceed our 
thought shall adorn the heritage of our Fathers, 
and from every quarter of the world, multitudes 
shall be joyful in that light which, two hundred 
years ( ago, our Fathers kindled on the hills of 
Boston ! 

Here, patriotism caught me suddenly on its 
wings, or raised me, soaring on its bubble of 
pride, where I saw the glory of my country, — 
transforming, by its magic freedom, all ignorance 
to knowledge, all vice to virtue ; even party 
strife, the monster of its own production, into 
love ; calumny to kindness ; and ruling all the 
elements of discord into harmony and peace ; 
carrying me upward until I could descry a mul- 
titude, saying one to another, let us, Unasking, 
and unaided by Him who rules the nations, 
build for ourselves, and for the admiration of all 
people, a self-sustained fabric which shall last 
forever, and gather around its honored base, the 
copied governments of mankind ! Suddenly, I 
saw tongues confounded, plans defeated, hope 
blasted, and the boasters scattered, who thought 



32 THE TELESCOPE. 

that nothing was restrained from them which 
they had imagined to do. Oh for such diligence, 
and earnestness, and self-distrust, and reliance 
upon the King of nations, as can alone make our 
nation happy in herself, or a light to the world. 
Oh for the spirit of our Fathers, purified, revived, 
bringing the nation, whose foundations they laid 
in piety and prayer, to God as the author of all 
blessings ! 

Then, prophecy caught me on its wings, and 
raised me whence I could see all the coming 
glory. The whole earth seemed spread out be- 
fore me in one brilliant panorama. Nothing 
marred its beauty. No storm or tempest dis- 
turbed the three oceans and numerous seas, all 
melted and flowing into one ; no thunders of war 
roared amidst the stillness, and troubled the sails 
and steam of commerce. There were no mo- 
rasses, or wilderness, or desert. Sahara was a 
garden. Empires lay .spread before me, with 
signs of peace in all their borders ; distinct in 
government, but bound in universal love. The 
swords were ploughing in the field, the spears 
were gathering clusters from the vine, and the 
powers of nature were employed in providing 
comforts for man, and in binding all nations into 



THE TELESCOPE. 33 

neighborhood. The whole earth was a paradise. 
For all flesh had come to Him who heareth 
prayer. 

The vision was distinct ; the beauty was sur- 
passing ; the accomplishment sure. Yet while I 
would have known the times and seasons, I per- 
ceived they were wisely hidden beneath the ob- 
scure symbols of prophecy. But as I looked, 
the assembled crowd before me seemed covered 
with the reflected glory of the scene ; some, ra- 
diant with faith and hope ; some, hiding their 
faces at so near a view of Him, whose counte- 
nance is like the sun shining in his strength ; 
who, coming in utmost mercy, wears on his ves- 
ture and on his thigh the Name by which he will 
assure to himself the conquest of the world, and 
to the world its rest of a thousand years. Me- 
thought there were angelic whispers in the 
breeze, caught and repeated by the tongue of 
man. " Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye 
perish from the way." " Blessed are all they 
who put their trust in Him." 

It was not in my power to join the interesting 

convocation in the temple of the Lord : there, to 

unite in the public covenant to serve the Lord 

God of our Fathers, and to hand down to pos- 

3 * 



34 THE TELESCOPE. 

terity our inherited blessings. As I was con- 
veyed around the mall, the centurial procession 
seemed like a funeral march over the graves of 
six generations : while the thought sunk to the 
heart, how low we must lie ere this pageantry is 
renewed again ; ere another centurial dirge strikes 
up ; another centurial pomp covers these fields 
from whence we now retire ! The hills will re- 
main, and the valleys, which, as I pass, now 
hide, and now display this floating crowd. That 
central tree, whose bending branches salute a 
fifth or six generation as they pass, will greet 
that other day ; and piazzas, windows, porticoes 
will glow with beauty, and gaze with ten thou- 
sand eyes, when we are faded away ! 

With these reflections I left the scene, and, 
hastening through the uncrowded streets, I found 
myself in a few moments surrounded by the 
beauties of Dorchester ; and from its gentle 
heights, turning me round, I saw Boston shining 
in the splendors of her two hundredth birth-day : 
rising on her everlasting hills, shorn of their sum- 
mits, with her lofty spires, her towering dome ; and 
joyful in her healthful and prosperous population. 
I had passed away from the hum of tongues, and 
the noise of her busy streets no longer reached 



THE TELESCOPE. 35 

my ears. As I fixed my eyes upon the metropo- 
lis of New England, the fountain-head of bles- 
sings descended from our Fathers, and of bles- 
sings flowing over the world, how could I help 
breaking the solemn silence and exclaiming : 

Boston ! thy foundations were laid in piety 
and prayer, in the name of the Father, and the 
Son, and the Holy Ghost ! Thou hast suffered 
the common lot of temptation, but thou hast not 
yet utterly fallen ; thy prosperity has not yet 
ripened thy self-confidence, and wrought thy 
folly and thy downfall ; thy candlestick is not 
yet removed out of its place, but shineth still on 
thee and on the remotest tribes of men. Thy 
Saviour is the Saviour of the world. He 
fulfils his promise and is with thee, and shows 
Himself the God of the whole earth. Be 
steadfast to the covenant of thy fathers. Cleave 
to Him, by whose power thou hast conquered 
Satan and turned darkness to light in the pagan 
world. Answer the wisdom of men by thy con- 
tinued and growing victories in the name of the 
Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Thy 
prosperity has been cherished by thy kindness to 
others ; thy piety has been renewed and increased 
amidst thy care of the pagan world. Thy Saviour 



36 THE TELESCOPE. 

victorious abroad, has been received as their God, 
by increasing crowds at home ! Pursue thy 
work. Guide the nation in publishing the gospel 
to the world, and thy Redeemer's growing vic- 
tories will turn the hearts of the children to the 
fathers, and the hearts of the fathers to the chil- 
dren ; and thou shalt be called a holy people, 

THE REDEEMED OF JEHOVAH, A CITY NOT FOR- 
SAKEN ! 



A VISION OF THE LAST NIGHT IN THE YEAR. 

Amidst the musings natural to the last night 
of the year, I retired to my bed ; meditating on 
the mortality of man, and often repeating to my- 
self the words of the prophet : " All flesh is 
grass, and all the goodliness of man as the flower 
of the field :" and longing earnestly to receive 
within me "the word of the Lord, which endur- 
eth forever." 

I have no recollection of intervening thought 
until I found myself far distant from my place of 
rest, standing at the great gateway of the Park 
of our commercial metropolis. A peculiar and 
death-like silence reigned through the extensive 
avenue of which I commanded the entire view — 
a portentous sign of silence in all its tributary 
streets. There was no rattling of carriages ; no 
hurrying and jostling of the crowd ; no inter- 
mingling of voices ; no hum of distant business, 
though the sun had but just passed the meridian, 



38 THE TELESCOPE. 

and was pouring its full and unclouded light upon 
all the haunts and ways of men. I saw only the 
public and private buildings which human art 
had reared, as if to mock the frailty of the hands 
which built them ; the trees stripped of their 
summer foliage, and the withered grass, nature's 
yearly lesson of mortality to living men ; and a 
mysterious preparation of hearses and mourning 
carriages, as far as the eye could reach, as though 
the city were sitting in silent waiting for a uni- 
versal funeral ! 

I did not muse long upon the scene before me 
when a general knell struck upon my ear from 
every dome in the city ; speaking in deep and 
varied tones the general calamity, and leaving 
minutes of silence more death-like than before, 
the mournful, meditative silence of 200,000 
souls. 

What, thought I, can be the meaning of this 
awful silence, this pause of motion and business, 
this mysterious preparation, this universal knell ? 
Has some fearful pestilence made havoc of the 
people, some angel of destruction smitten the 
first-born and changed the joyous city into a 
scene of mourning and wo ? While I was mus- 
ing, fixed in astonishment, the whole city, as by 



THE TELESCOPE. 39 

one consent, seemed to be put in motion. The 
narrow houses of the dead, apparently innume- 
rable, were brought out from the abodes of the 
living ; I could hear the sounds of universal 
weeping and lamentation, and felt unutterable 
sympathy in the public agony. Immediately the 
death-march commenced, to the different ceme- 
teries, of various processions passing in different 
directions, without disorder or confusion, moving 
slowly to the general chime of tolling bells. 

I attempted to hasten away from a scene 
which filled me with horror ; but I could not es- 
cape. Wherever I went the funeral was there ; 
in every avenue, in every street, the same death- 
like order and stillness, and weeds of mourning, 
and tolling bells, the same flow of a smitten peo- 
ple to their graves ; — to which abodes of silence, 
the living were every where consigning their 
dead, as it seemed to me past numbering. 

With the rapidity of thought I found myself 
transported from one part of the city to another, 
but every where amidst mourning and wo, At 
one time, I was crushed amidst the crowds of 
Trinity, until my imagination was bewildered, 
and I seemed to see strange sights of the long 
slumbering dead, rising, pallid and half-skeletons,, 



\ 



40 THE TELESCOPE. 

to bid a welcome to this new year's levee. Then 
I was in the Bowery, arrested by the confluences 
from the east and west, and south and north, 
slow moving, whither the dead might find their 
last, long home. Then I was at the Potter's 
field. The crowds were immense. The whole 
city seemed to be flowing to that great field of 
death. The earth seemed fresh-dug and un- 
frosted, and covered with the living crowds. 
The living were as silent as the dead ; no sound 
broke upon the ear but the rattle, " earth to 
earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust I" 

I would have asked the meaning of a scene of 
wo so mysterious, but I saw it written in lines 
of anguish, and remorse, and repentance, and re- 
signation, and resolution, and faith, in the varied 
faces of the living crowds. I seemed to have a 
sympathy with the common heart ; to know the 
sentiment which the looks expressed. I saw not 
indeed such marks, as I expected, of overcoming 
horror for a public and universal calamity, but 
rather the universal expression which we are 
wont to see in each particular instance of bereave- 
ment ; of sentiments which few are able to ban- 
ish for the season, how few are willing to retain ! 



THE TELESCOPE. 41 

What convictions of the frailty of man ! what 
feelings of self reproach ! what promises and 
vows and prayers did I see in the souls which 
passed before me, transparent as the pellucid lake 
or river ! Here and there I saw faith, meekly 
seeking for the guidance and blessing of an 
un-upbr aiding Father : — looking through its 
tears as if it wept not, and fixing a cheerful 
hope far beyond the fleeting fashion of this 
world, amidst the things unseen. 

Overcome at length, I hastened away that I 
might find a place of quiet thought in the win- 
ter loneliness of that beautiful promenade, skirt- 
ed with water on the west and south ; wont of a 
summer's evening to be thronged by cheerful 
groups of young and gay in innocent recreation. 
But the funeral teas there ! The clear, trans- 
parent waters gilded with the sun now hastening 
to set, showed not their ordinary display of craft 
of all sorts sporting by wind and steam as if to 
decorate a holiday. The shipping, moored at 
the wharves or anchored in the stream, showed 
no other signs of living beings but colors at half- 
mast. Here and there, scattered sails and steam- 
boats, covered with coffins and decorated dis- 
mally with palls and filled with mourners, were 
4 



42 THE TELESCOPE. 

apparently carrying their bewailed friends to be 
buried among grandsires and parents and kin- 
dred who were gone before : here and there also 
a few vessels of larger size, from distant voyages, 
with dead on board, now disembarking, how dif- 
ferently from their hope, when they put merrily 
to sea ! 

I felt that there was no escape from the horrors 
by which I was surrounded ; no avoiding this 
awful funeral, this universal knell, still sounding 
in softened and distant tones, upon my ears ; and 
I sat myself down to give vent to my sorrows in 
a flood of tears. 

As I was weeping, I felt a gentle touch upon 
my shoulder, such as a kind friend might have 
given who had become an accidental spectator 
of my grief. I turned and saw a face so lovely, 
so benignant, as seemed to me more than human : 
a countenance which could never have been ruf- 
fled with anger nor radiant with pride : surely I 
thought, a ministering spirit; some holy angel, 
come to unfold the mystery before me, to sooth 
the anguish of my heart and to aid me in learn- 
ing some lesson of salvation ; as I trust, unseen, 
he has often whispered instruction and consola- 
tion to my afflicted spirit. 



THE TELESCOPE. 43 

" What you have seen to-day," said he, " you 
may be surprised to know is nothing new. All 
that is uncommon in the scene before you, is, 
that by my aid the funerals of 365 days have 
been clustered before your imagination into one. 
The knell you have heard was the knell of five 
thousand, the victims of death's daily and com- 
mon work. No other evil has befallen the city 
of New York but its usual mortality of one hun- 
dred a week. No fearful pestilence, no over- 
whelming calamity has filled the city with 
mourning or caused this universal knell. Health 
and prosperity have cheered the past year. The 
thousands whose obsequies have passed in vision 
before you, met their death by the common vari- 
eties of human calamity and disease. When the 
sun cast the shadows last as you now see 
them, the greater part were in health, and had no 
reason to expect themselves to be the victims of 
death. Rapid fevers, and fluxes and lingering 
consumptions have wasted and destroyed multi- 
tudes of the strong active and blooming, who 
have gone to their graves instead of the infirm 
and aged whom they were expecting to follow. 
Some fell down dead suddenly amidst their walks, 
or conversation, or daily toil ; or were blasted by 



44 THE TELESCOPE. 

lightning or steam. Some alone and without fore- 
warning, breathed away their lives amidst the 
quiet slumbers of the night; and heard not the 
lingering morning call, as it fell again and again 
upon their dead ear ; nor the cry of astonishment 
and wo, which burst from their friends at the 
sight of their lifeless corpse. 

" Some as they died, no matter where or how, 
were met by the angels. No shock came so 
suddenly, no blast so terribly, as to elude the 
care of those ministering spirits who have daily, 
nightly charge of covenanted souls. Even in 
the storm and tempest, in darkness and alone, 
the charged angels covered them with their 
shields, until they were fitted for their upward 
flight, then speeded and aided them to the re- 
gions of purity and love." 

I was waiting in anxiety approaching to agony 
to hear my heavenly guide, speak of those who 
died unused to prayer ; who had never ac- 
cepted the offered covenant of their Maker, nor 
welcomed the Spirit sent doyn by their exalted 
Saviour : but the foreboding awoke me. As I 
awoke I found myself still longing to receive 
within me the ever-living, life-giving word : and 
saying again, " The living, the living he shall 



THE TELESCOPE. 45 

praise thee." " Whatsoever my hand findeth to 
do I will do it with my might, for I am hasten- 
ing to the grave." " I will be steadfast, immove- 
able, always abounding in the work of the Lord, 
for as much as I know that my labor shall not 
be in vain in the Lord." 



4* 



THE HEIR OF THE WORLD : Matt. xvi. 26. 

What an hour of disappointment was ^the 
morning of the resurrection ; the morning of an 
undone eternity ! I had forgotten that time was 
to end. I had outlived a multitude of genera-^ 
tions, the only surviver of those which had passed 
away. I had forgotten the word of Him with 
whom one day is as a thousand years, and a 
thousand years as one day. I thought within 
myself as I had done for centuries ; " To-morrow 
shall be as this day, and yet more abundant ;" 
until I became assured that amidst the wreck of 
human generations there would be no limit to 
my life ; to the enjoyment of the whole world 
which had fallen to my single lot. I dreamed 
that night, the last night of my earthly exist- 
ence, of rest for ages to come. I saw centuries 
rolling unto me filled with earthly delights ; my- 
self admired and served by succeeding crowds 
of dying men. I dreamed of earthly immortal- 
ity. As I awoke, I saw the sun arise as I had 
seen him for thousands of years ; and as he as^ 



THE TELESCOPE. 47 

cended the eastern sky, I hailed his presence and 
traced his path as the witness and the harbinger 
of my boundless prosperity. My servants shed, 
as before, the choicest perfumes through all my 
halls. I was clothed again in robes ornamented 
with gold and diamonds, and I sat down to a 
table covered with the choicest viands of the most 
fruitful climates of the globe ; with an appetite 
as fresh, as in the earliest days of my unchang- 
ing and glowing youth. I could command, that 
morning, the services of the men of every na- 
tion. Even the wisdom of the dead ministered 
unto me ; for I was encircled with all the con- 
veniences that art ever devised. The inventions 
and discoveries which had mocked their authors 
in all ages, were perfected and left as my inher- 
itance ; and adorned and blessed the palace 
and the domain, where dwelt in unceasing pros- 
perity the HEIR OF THE WORLD. 

I had passed the ordinary limits of human 
wisdom ; and as far excelled the race which 
died around me in the scope of my mind as in 
the circle of meaner enjoyments. I had mas- 
tered the wisdom of the sages of all times, and 
had triumphed over their temporary follies. I 
knew the theories of matter and mind — the 



48 THE TELESCOPE. 

philosophy of mineral, vegetable, animal and in- 
tellectual nature ; and in the practice of centu- 
ries had trained my mind to such habits of easy 
thought and recollection, that I could call up my 
boundless stores of knowledge or dismiss them 
at my pleasure. I imagined that I could unite 
the highest happiness of the angelic, with all the 
delights of the human nature ; and vainly con- 
sidered myself the favorite of both worlds. At 
the moment when I was ready to perish, I imag- 
ined myself the heir of boundless and endless 
enjoyments, which should make me happier than 
either man or angel, than either earth or heaven ! 
I was a stranger to disappointment, sorrow, or 
pain : I was a stranger to anxiety and fear. I 
had nothing to awake me from my delusive 
dream. As the stream of generations floated 
by me, I remained firm as a rock ; fruitful and 
flourishing forever, like a tree standing by the 
waters. I saw before me boundless, endless en- 
joyments, and assured myself of eternity as 

THE HEIR OF THE WORLD. 

Yet amidst the profusion of my blessings, 
and in full expectation of their continuance, I 
was not absolutely and perfectly happy. I was 
heir of the world ; I had obtained the utmost 



THE TELESCOPE. 49 

limits of desire ; I had even gained as a perpet- 
ual gift what to mortals was only an occasional 
blessing. I had an appetite that was never 
palled; a self glorying that was never put to 
shame ; a hope of good to come that had never 
been disappointed, and which had no misgivings 
for the future. What was wanting to fill up the 
measure of my bliss 1 I wondered what : why 
I felt inwardly less happy than the heirs of pov- 
erty and pain, whose faces shone often with a 
glory, which showed them while on earth the heirs 
of heaven. I had all possible prosperity ; I even 
believed my prosperity unchanging ; but neither 
enjoyment nor expectation made my bliss com- 
plete. I felt a craving which was unsatisfied, 
and which sometimes made my expectations of 
future and boundless prosperity a burden. Yet 
I had all conceivable means of happiness, in- 
creasing around me, every century I lived : and 
all the happiness which was possible to a mind 
not filled with the love of God and the love of 
man : all that was possible to a mind, which had 
chosen the creature and forsaken the all-suffi- 
cient Creator. No gifts of nature or of art 
could have added to my bliss : nothing could 
have made me happy without deficiency, but to 



50 THE TELESCOPE. 

have chosen God as my Portion and Lord, and 
to have been a co-worker with Him, in kindness 
to his creatures. Oh that I had looked upward 
in season to the Giver of my blessings ; and that 
I had learned to be a ministering spirit, happiest 

in serving others ! Yet, all that the world 

could give, it gave : all that the Creator could 
bestow, upon the soul which departed from Him, 
He gave to me : and for thousands of years, 
more in each than in a single one was ever given 
to any other member of the family of man. 
Guarded from evils, loaded with blessings, new 
every morning and repeated every moment 
through successive ages, I had all possible good, 
and all possible duration ; for my prosperity never 
ceased until the last sun arose ; until the last 
trumpet sounded, and summoned the heir of 
the world, in an instant, poor and miserable, 
and blind and naked and destitute of all things ! 
It was my guilty and fatal choice, to have my 
portion in the world. As I rose into life I saw 
the world inviting a possessor, and all craving 
to possess it. Some were ambitious of a limited 
dominion, and bounded domains, under their 
regal control, for a score or two of years ! I made 
as I thought the wiser choice, of blessings in 



THE TELESCOPE. 51 

abundance and without other limit than the du- 
ration of time ; — in the fullest sense to have my 
portion in the world. My wish was granted : I 
sought and I received the world, as my inherit- 
ance : without the perplexities and fatigues of 
power. 

I perceived at first that my happiness would 
at some distant period come to an end, and the 
prospect marred my enjoyment ; but prosperity 
and ease soon blinded my eyes and satisfied my 
heart : and wherever I was, and in whatever era 
of the history of men ever crowding to the tri- 
bunal of their Judge, I was still unmindful that 
my prosperity would be closed at last by a day of 
account, which would make all my past enjoy- 
ments a vanity and a curse. I became myself, 
my God. I thought I was Almighty to secure 
my existence and to provide the conveniences 
and luxuries which adorned and blessed my 
abode. Whatever I desired for gratification or 
use came at my bidding, until I forgot that the 
Most High ruled in the affairs of men, and 
could bring desolation upon the heart of the 
heir of the world. The casual exclamation of 
the king of Babylon, became the sentiment of 
my existence : and for ages I said daily within 



52 THE TELESCOPE. 

myself, Have I not gained the whole world, 
by the might of my power, and for my increas- 
ing and endless enjoyment? Nor was I unde- 
ceived until ages rolled me to that morning, when 
I learned, in the twinkling of an eye, the weak- 
ness and sinfulness of man and the dominion of 
God! 

I awoke as from a dream. From the building 
of the tower of Babel, to the morning of the 
resurrection, seemed when it was passed like a 
watch in the night, or even like the passage of 
a weaver's shuttle. I could scarcely believe that 
I had lived longer than the multitudes, who 
came and passed so rapidly in the short lived 
generations of men. I can never forget the 
sudden horror of the coming of the Son of man. 
I heard the trumpet, and was startled from a 
dream of thousands of vears ; I had not time to 
collect my thoughts before myriads were gather- 
ing around me, from every wind of heaven, to 
meet the Lord in the air. My first thought was 
that the dead only were summoned ; for while 
the living stood in admiration and awe, countless 
multitudes arose from their graves. The sea 
and the land gave up their dead. But another 
blast shook the heavens ; and in an instant I had 



THE TELESCOPE. 53 

travelled all the distance between the earth and 
the seat of judgment. I looked back upon my 
inheritance with anguish and dismay. Fires 
were bursting from its mountains and wrapping 
all in one mass of flame. I was petrified with 
horror. I cast my eyes around, wishful for a 
refuge. But all was gone. I was surrounded 
by multitudes innumerable. All that had ever 
lived from the morning to the night of time, 
were now gathered around the proud heir of 
The world ; how humbled now ! Not one could 
befriend, or serve, or even soothe me now. My 
memory traced the whole track of time, but I 
could not bring back a moment of lost and de- 
parted ages. I could not recover a morsel of 
my boundless stores, which but a few moments 
past I held as my everlasting possession. I was 
as desolate as the heirs of poverty ; as helpless 
as an infant. I looked around me. The throng 
was endless : downwards, upwards, around, the 
whole arch of heaven was crowded with the 
multitudes of the living and the dead ! But 
my thoughts centered on myself. Amidst mul- 
titudes unnumbered, I felt alone. My soul was 
so fixed upon itself, so overwhelmed with the 
wants of the hour of doom, that I forgot the 
5 



54 THE TELESCOPE. 

presence of the whole family of man, and even 
their existence. All possible anxiety was cen- 
tered in the soul of the disappointed heir of 

THE WORLD ! 

In that sudden horror, I had no eye to see 
but One of the human family ; that mysterious 
One whom I had neglected in the season of my 
boundless prosperity : that mysterious One who 
was the temple of God's merciful presence with 
mankind ; by whom, / and all had been sum- 
moned suddenly to judgment. In my hour of 
agony, I turned my eye to this Brother of the 
human family ; to the Almighty friend of man ; 
and I expected that He who sought so intently 
the most unworthy of men, and even turned 
earth into heaven for a thousand years, would 
smile kindly upon me. But as I looked, his face 
was turned away from me. I saw his right hand 
stretched forth to a multitude with shining' faces, 
with palms in their hands and crowns of victory 
on their heads. I saw that I had no part nor 
lot in the friend of man. For the first time I 
wished that affliction had been my portion, 
that I had been tried in the furnace and 
brought forth as gold. I stood aghast, expect- 
ing the- Judge to turn to those on the left hand. 



THE TELESCOPE. 55 

Alas that day ! the day of judgment ! It is 
called a day. I had no measure of its duration; 
for I had left on flame the ball which had meas- 
ured time in its daily and annual revolutions : 
but that day seemed longer than thousands of 
years preceding. It was a life of horror : one 
moment of which was enough to overbalance the 
profit of him, who, having gained the whole 
world, was come to the day of the loss of the 
soul ! 

I was filled with sudden, bitter, incurable re- 
morse. For thousands of years I had felt no 
compunction. I had not imagined myself guilty 
of a crime. I had lost the apprehension of the 
law and the Lawgiver. I had become supreme 
to myself, and my desires were the rule by which 
I measured my heart and my life. I thought for 
myself, I lived for myself, I could conceive of 
no sin except against myself. By the peculiar- 
ity of my condition, by the curse which I had 
chosen as my blessing, I could not even sin 
against myself; for as I gathered around me the 
choicest blessings of the world, I was taught in- 
stinctively to use them only to the point of their 
highest and most enduring gratification ; and to 
pause within the boundary of their abuse. From 



56 THE TELESCOPE. 

the hour of my fatal choice, abused nature never 
reminded me of the folly and the guilt of depart- 
ing from the source of all good. I was left to 
the final breaking up of my inheritance, to learn 
that I had sinned against God, and thus against 
myself. As I saw the throne of judgment, and 
the Friend of man seated on it, as the Judge, 
my moral sense awoke. All the claims of my 
Creator, Preserver and Redeemer rushed upon 
my mind. Alas ! I had passed my opportunity. 
I had refused to take shelter under the wings 
which were spread out to protect me. I had 
doomed myself to sin and anguish and despair. 
I was self-condemned. I was guilty before God. 
Yet when I looked, I saw in the hands of the 
Judge the prints of the nails which bore witness 
of his love. When I saw those hands pointing 
to the countless myriads of the redeemed, the 
celestial road to the kingdom prepared from the 
foundation of the world, I wished for a moment 
to mingle in that tide of happy beings, which 
was beginning to flow towards the ocean of eter- 
nal love. But in an instant I was shocked at 
the thought, and I felt that if the Redeemer 
should turn towards me with the words of invi- 
tation which I heard echoing from the tongues 



THE TELESCOPE. 57 

y 

of angels along the ranks of the redeemed, I 
should be unwilling to accept the blessing ; that 
the heir of the world could not become the heir 
of heaven. I felt that I was a moral ruin. I 
could call up no feelings which betokened resto- 
ration ; which seemed the germ of a recovery. 
I had been satisfied with myself because nature 
aiid art and earth and heaven conspired to ren- 
der me happy. I sought to quell the tempest of 
my soul ; to be again proud, and selfish, and 
happy, as I was when all nature and all time 
ministered unto me. But the ruling principle 
was gone. None ministered unto me, I was 
left to myself; with habits and desires which 
craved to have the Almighty and all his crea- 
tures the ministers of my happiness ; and vainly 
to call it all my own. I had destroyed myself. 
I had chosen the whole world and lost the vigor 
and the virtue of my soul. I suddenly discov-? 
ered that I was a victim of my folly, — I was vile 
and unhappy ; a troubled sea, casting up mire 
and dirt ! 

But I was roused from my misery by the voice 

of my judge. I saw that his power and justice 

were to give form to the curse, which I had 

wrought for myself, and sunk into a deeper des<? 

5* 



58 THE TELESCOPE. 

pair, because I was to be doomed an outcast from 
heaven. I heard the charge and joined in the 
general plea, " when saw we thee a hungered, or 
athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or in prison, and 
did not minister unto thee." Alas ! I had been 
too blind to see the Redeemer in his suffering 
disciples. I had been too busy in seeking the 
provisions and embellishments of my palace, to 
perceive his secret presence in the hearts of men, 
Even when he reigned over the earth for a thou- 
sand years, and united all nations in a harmony 
never known before, I saw that glory rise and 
prevail without ministering to the Prince of 
Peace, for that glory added nothing to the splen- 
dors which had encompassed before the heir of 

THE WORLD. 

I remembered my neglect and unkindness. I 
cast my eyes along the ranks of the redeemed, 
and knew again those whom I had known be- 
fore ; but I could not see one whom I had urged 
or encouraged onward in the path to glory ; one 
to whom I could appeal for testimony against the 
dreadful charge. Alas ! it was my miserable 
choice to be ministered unto : I had no time — 
no means — no inclination to minister to others. 
No looks of gratitude for kindness from me, shone 



THE TELESCOPE. 59 

forth along those ranks of the redeemed ; yet 
there were looks of pity, which showed me that 
if it were possible they would even then have 
ministered unto me. I rose almost to hope at 
that look of deep compassion, until as I turned 
I saw the gathering tempest of reproach and 
hatred, which covered the ranks of the con- 
demned. It might not have been so ; but it 
seemed to me that every eye was fixed on me 
with bitter reproach and hatred. I know not 
who spoke — or if all spoke — but it seemed to me 
as if the whole arch of heaven rung with their 
curses — and with threats of bitter and eternal 
vengeance upon me, as foremost in commending 
the fatal choice which millions made : who, ever 
exposed to the common lot, lived and acted as if 
their houses and their lands and their prosperity 
would never have an end. 

It seemed as if hell was beginning, in those 
looks and cries and threats, which began to fill 
the miserable throng ; that midheaven would be 
its place, if there we were permitted to remain. 
But the Almighty Judge did not suffer us to dis- 
turb the harmony of his kingdom : he had de- 
scended to the world to save us ; he had died 
to prove his love and to open the way of salva- 



60 THE TELESCOPE. 

tion and to set our feet in the way of peace ; he 
had risen from the dead to commend his power ; 
he had ascended on high and poured out his 
spirit ; his spirit had strived with us that we 
might be saved ; but alas ! we had destroyed 
ourselves. No prison was prepared for us ; but 
we were driven away by the gentle Shepherd into 
everlasting fire, prepared for the Devil and his 
angels. I was carried onward in the throng. It 
was a tumultuous sea ; billows rolled on billows : 
surges of a countless, restless multitude, driven 
as by a tempest towards the place prepared for 
the Devil and his angels. T felt eternal misery 
settling on my soul. I became frantic with the 
sympathies of countless wretches. Within I was 
a troubled sea ; without, the wicked were a trou- 
bled sea on which no calm could come, no quiet 
sun arise. Oh to have avoided the horrors of 
that hour — if hour it was : as it passed it seemed 
eternity. My inheritance of the whole world 
had vanished like a dream. I was awake and I 
was wretched. I was absorbed in the misery of 
the present. Eternity seemed wrapped up in the 
very morning of its being. The certain antici- 
pation brought the horrors of boundless futurity 
to my bosom, All that I could conceive of du- 



THE TELESCOPE. 61 

ration of sin and suffering was present to my 
soul. In that first agony I thought I felt eternal 
wretchedness. 

The prison doors were closed ! The sentence, 
the prison, the company, the prospect, renewed 
and increased the agony ; especially the distant 
view of the glory of the blessed. I extended my 
eye across the impassable gulf. I heard, or 
thought I heard, the heavenly harmony. The 
pang was unutterable when I turned my thought 
within, and saw the desolation of my soul. 
Wretched in my prison, whither could I flee 1 I 
saw that if heaven were brought nearer, and I 
were its inmate, that harmony could never soothe 
my soul. Which way I looked, was hell — myself 
was hell. I felt within a worm that cannot die ; 
a fire that cannot be quenched. I fed the worm ; 
I kindled and fanned the fire. I saw that I had 
bred in my soul the passions which now raged 
beyond control, beyond recovery. 

Yet the thought of relief did for a moment 
come in amidst the first agony ; and I looked 
again to find the Great Shepherd — the loving 
friend of mankind. I could see far distant the 
seat where he used to be exalted as a Prince and 
Saviour ; but he had resigned it. There re- 



62 THE TELESCOPE. 

mained no signs of intercession — no descending 
Spirit — no gift of repentance. 

I know not where I am in the progress of 
eternity. I know not how long I have been 
wretched. I feel as if eternities were passed 
since I closed the thousands of years which are 
vanished like a dream. Alas ! eternities, 
eternities are still before me. What is my 
profit, to have gained the whole world and 
lost my own soul 1 



PHILADELPHIA AND THE SUNDAY SCHOOL 
UNION, MAY 24, 1831. 

At the distance of more than three hundred 
miles, let me in my chamber catch the hallowed 
sympathies, and form the holy resolutions, and 
pour the earnest prayers which adorn the annual 
festival of the American Sunday School 
Union. Let me hear and obey the soft whisper, 
borne by the gentle breezes over all the land, 
Suffer the little children to come unto me and 
forbid them not 7 for of such is the kingdom of 
heaven. 

It is not without visible design, that divine 
Providence has allotted to each of the three 
principal cities of the United States, one of the 
three leading religious enterprises of the day. 
These enterprises are managed probably with 
more simplicity and energy than could be ex- 
pected, if they were all seated at our principal 
metropolis. The most gifted and devoted citi- 
zens of each, can now exert the full vigor of pur- 
pose and enterprise, unweakened by excessive 
labors and undistracted by multifarious cares: 



64 THE TELESCOPE. 

devoting to one high design their best affections 
and thoughts. Each of these fountains of moral 
influence, also, is thus furnished with the best 
means of inward purity and fullness. The main 
organs of the public life are kept in health by the 
purposes and the doings of an active benevolence^ 
and may thus transmit vigor and virtue to the 
extremities of the republic. 

There is a beautiful fitness also in the actual 
allotment, worthy of the wisdom of its Divine 
Author. Boston, with New England, of which 
she is the metropolis, inherited from her ances- 
tors, the principles and habits which qualified her 
to lead in the work of Foreign Missions. Her 
means of education, and her ancient habit of ap- 
plying those means to a preparation for the min- 
istry, have furnished her with a more abundant 
supply of the ministers and agents of religion. 
Her examples of early regard to the heathen 
tribes, and of systematic and noble charity, have 
raised up among the rich many prepared to give 
birth and growth to enlarged plans of education 
at home and missions abroad ; and her general 
population to unite their smaller alms into broad 
and deep streams of Christian charity. At the 
same time, Boston needed to see the Redeemer 



THE TELESCOPE. 65 

go forth and prove Himself the God of the 
whole earth. Let her light shine forth more 
and more upon the Pagan world, and, as hath 
been for the last twenty years, will it be reflected 
more and more with healing on herself! 

New York, is the proper centre of the Bible 
Society; sitting at the confluence of many wa- 
ters from every extremity of the country, she is 
the proper organ of all classes who bear the 
Christian name, in giving and receiving the 
word of life. Sitting by the side of the sea, the 
metropolis of a great Christian Republic, she 
offers herself as an Almoner to all nations of 
the only charter of our liberty, The Bible! 

As to Philadelphia, her very name befits her 
chosen office, of training successive generations 
of the young, to live in love on earth, to dwell in 
the regions of love forever. Her founder, the 
benevolent Penn, prepared in the western world 
a city for the device of the benevolent Raikes ; 
styling her 5 as if with prophetic foresight of her 
future glory, Philadelphia, the city of brotherly 
love. As that name occurs, one seems to see the 
gathering crowds of savages filling the forest of 
Coaquannock, coming to meet the man of peace 
and love, under the wide spreading branches of 
6 



66 THE TELESCOPE. 

the elm; and William Penn, unarmed and 
fearless amidst a warlike host. One seems to 
hear his unsworn promise of love and kindness, 
and their assurance of love returned to Penn and 
to his children, as long as the sun and moon en- 
dure ! As that crowd of savages retired, loving 
and beloved, Philadelphia arose, how worthy 
of her name ; how worthy of that office to be 
conferred upon her future sons, loving and be- 
loved, in deeds of Christian kindness to the 
young, until all shall know the Lord, from the 

LEAST tO the GREATEST ! 

Is it a fancy of the writer, or is there not some^ 
thing in the very approach to Philadelphia, which 
prepares a stranger to sympathize with her in her 
maternal care of the rising race ? I have never 
approached that city from the south and west ; 
but I need not tell those who are familiar with 
the journey from New York to Philadelphia, how 
agreeable the contrast after the jolting and dust 
of a hurried ride from the Raritan, when one 
finds himself passing rapidly down the Delaware 
in a swift and mighty chariot on the waters ; now 
gliding in the channel, now shooting to the wes- 
tern, now to the -eastern shore ; discerning vil- 
lages, and villas, and farms, and gardens, in ali 



THE TELESCOPE. 67 

the beauty of the most verdant season of the year. 
The entranced traveller forgets the horrors of the 
road, as he rides triumphantly on the waters 
amidst the ever changing beauties of nature and 
art, growing on his eye, until he enters calmed 
and quieted, the city of brotherly love. 

Is it fancy again, in sympathy with the calm 
and quiet spirit of her founder and her first set- 
tlers, or is there not a fitness for her lovely office, 
in the regularity of her arrangement, in the 
evenness of her surface, in the uniformity of her 
aspect, in the gentleness and beauty of her whole 
appearance, sitting on her quiet waters ; and in 
that fine arrangement by which she pours from 
her side, through all her habitations, streams of 
cleanliness and health and security ? Wears she 
not thus, an air of dignity and grace, suited to 
her noblest character as the quiet, loving, faith- 
ful mother of the rising race of our great 
Republic ? 

Lovely city, Philadelphia ! Lament not thy 
loss of the Capitol; nor long to be the seat of 
political power. Divine Providence has given 
thee a nobler office, a more commanding influ- 
ence, a higher glory. Thy worthiest work of 
poiccr was the promulgation of the Bible to our 



68 THE TELESCOPE. 

needy land :* thy lasting glory shall be to pro- 
long and perfect that work in thy present exalta- 
tion. Let thy doctrine drop as the rain, and distil 
as the dew, as the small rain upon the tender 
herb. Thus shalt thou overspread the land with 
piety and peace, and be more honored and be- 
loved, than to have dwelt for ages the civil me- 
tropolis of our growing Republic. Thy seat is 
Mahanaim, whence go forth over all the land, 
seen and unseen ministries from the Lord's 
Host. Angels hover o'er thee, and amidst thee, 
and with thee, guiding and aiding* the labors of 
thy love. Thy founder, Penn, thine exemplar, 
Raikes, it may be, visit thee, as their chosen 
spot of heavenly ministry ! 

Yet they see thee not, thine angelic guides 
and guardians see thee not, altogether such as 

* The first English Bible ever printed in the United States, 
was published by Atkins, at Philadelphia, 1781, a time when 
the supply from England was interrupted by the war. It was 
recommended to the people by an Act of the American Con- 
gress, signed by their Secretary, Charles Thompson. A copy of 
this Bible, was used by the gentleman who stated the fact to me, 
and was worn out in the service of his family; he cherishes the 
most lively regard for this Bible of his childhood, and has pur- 
chased and preserves a copy. I trust the present good work 
of Philadelphia will appear in like ripe fruits fifty years hence 
and in far greater abundance. 



THE TELESCOPE. 69 

thy founder wished, as angels can rejoice over. 
But amidst the scenes which now delight my 
fancy, I will not know thy spots; save that I 
cannot hide that pile, which opposite seems to 
claim pre-eminence over the temple of the Sab- 
bath schools;* herself a temple for the young, 
patroned by adult and hoary devotees at her hon- 
ored shrine. Tell me then, ye citizens of Phila- 
delphia, ye ministers of mercy and of justice, is 
she also a tender, nursing mother to the young, 
blessing them for time and for eternity ? Or like 
her sister Theatres, does she also hide eter- 
nity behind the curtains of time ; and even in- 
volve the interests of time in a dream of pleas- 
ure ; and in that dream of pleasure is she the 
pander to drunkenness and debauchery ; the 
tempter to all crimes, the mother of all ruin, ever 
covering her base imposture under the pretence 
of morals and refinement ? Is she like her sister 
at the Park of our great commercial metropolis, 
who faces the hall of justice, with bold front, 
while she fills her purlieus with temptation and 
sin, and nightly trains the successive victims of 
her evenhanded neighbor? or like Tremont, look- 

* Chesnut Street Theatre ; opposite the Sabbath School Union 
House. 

6* 



70 THE TELESCOPE. 

ing askance on the green fields of Boston, as half 
ashamed, to have broken her promise to the me- 
tropolis of the Pilgrims ? 

Methinks, as I ask these questions, I see the 
lovely youth, fresh from his mother's bosom, from 
his father's counsels, listening to the call of this 
rival temple. In loud and stubborn tones, and 
with an impudent face, (how unsuited Philadel- 
phia to thy name of love, to thy mild and gentle 
manners,) she proclaims, " I have peace offerings 
with me, this day have I paid my vows, there- 
fore came I forth to meet thee, diligently to seek 
thy face and I have found thee. Come with me, 
and I will show thee good from evening to the 
midnight hour — I have sights for the eye, music 
for the ear, a feast for the soul, and with me all 
that appetite can crave or lust desire." Alas ! 
he stops and listens ; her words are already mu- 
sic to his ear. He enters, and again he enters, 
and again, the hall of temptation ; at first weak- 
ened in his mind, and perverted in his moral 
sentiment, by late hours, excessive amusement, 
and the unchristianised, paganised, profane dra- 
ma ; above all, by the voluntary loss of all oppor- 
tunity for sacred reading, meditation and prayer ; 
at length, the spectator and the partner of intern. 



THE TELESCOPE. 71 

perate revelry, and the victim of the harlot's wily 
invitations. Alas! temptation produces desire, 
desire ripens into crime ; and health, and morals, 
and youthful hope, are sold for the pleasures of a 
moment ; are bartered for misery and ruin ! 

It may not be so with every youthful visitant. 
The grosser temptations may assail, and not 
overcome. The inmate of the Theatre may 
remain safe from intemperance and debauchery ; 
may prosper in business, acquire wealth, and live 
and die on the heights of prosperity : — still an 
inmate of the Theatre ! But will he be a Chris- 
tian ? Dear youth, what will be thy calamity, 
if thy evenings should be too busy and too happy 
for prayer, and thy mornings too feeble and 
worn ; — thy Bible a sealed book, thyself without 
religion and without God! without faith and 
without hope ! What though prosperity should 
shine upon thy path, and pleasure gladden it, 
and pride should tell thee that the glory is all 
thine own ? What will soothe thee when sick- 
ness or calamity cometh suddenly upon thee? 
Where wilt thou make thy refuge until the storm 
be overpast ? Or if sickness and calamity should 
spare thee, whither wilt thou flee when the al. 
mond tree hath blossomed, and the grasshopper 



72 THE TELESCOPE. 

has become a burden, and desire has failed, and 
thy imagination sees before thee, thy long home ? 
Where then will be thy refuge ? Who then will 
be thy friend ? Or, when the last trial comes, in 
youth, maturity or old age, what shall comfort 
thee in that dark hour, if the Lord is not thy 
shepherd, if thou hast not a Saviour ? Or at the 
last great day, what will cheer thee, when the 
Saviour says — " Thou didst not minister unto 
me/' Or in eternity, whence will flow thy bliss, 
if God is not thy God, and sin remains a never 
dying worm, a never quenched fire ! 

But list ! another voice : " My son, keep my 
words, and lay up my commandments with thee. 
Keep my commandments and live, and my law 
as the apple of thine eye. Bind them upon thy 
fingers, write them upon the table of thine heart. 
Say unto wisdom thou art my sister, and call un- 
derstanding thy kinswoman." Oh, there is a 
wisdom in the providence of God, which places 
the antidote adjacent to the evil. Rather what 
wisdom in that arrangement, which has extended 
the call of wisdom from this blessed centre, over 
the whole nation, and invites and allures the 
young before they meet the temptations to folly, 
intemperance and debauchery ; before they have 



THE TELESCOPE. 73 

learned in the toil of pleasure, to pervert nature's 
seasons of meditation and prayer ; the morning 
and evening, before they have lost nature's op- 
portunity for religion ; the bloom of youth ! 
Lovely temple ! Best ornament of Philadelphia, 
the city of brotherly love ! Thy ministries are 
ministries of kindness ; pure, peaceable, gentle, 
easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good 
fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy ! 
Thou causest short, hasty life to rejoice in the 
blessings of industry, prudence, and piety, and 
its greatest sufferings to prove short means 
of everlasting holiness. Child of the Sabbath 
school ; youth, taught in the word of God, in 
the law of the Lord ! meditate therein day and 
night ; then thou shalt be like a tree planted by 
the rivers of water, which bringeth forth its fruit 
in its season ; his leaf also shall not wither, and 
whatsoever he doeth shall prosper. The storms 
of life may thicken over thee, and the tempests 
threaten thy destruction; but thy roots shall be 
strengthened, and thy branches refreshed, and 
thy fruits ripen for immortality. Who shall harm 
thee in the hour of peril and calamity ? What 
shall affright thee in the hour of death ? And 
when the last breath of life departs, who shall 



74 THE TELESCOPE. 

hinder thy angel friends from bearing thee to the 
bosom of Abraham and the saints made perfect? 
And when thy spirit shall enter its glorified body, 
who shall forbid thy standing at the right hand of 
the Redeemer, or shut against thee the gates of 
the kingdom of heaven? 

Yes,RAiKES, that angelic whisper, Try, heard 
by thee in the streets of Gloucester,* has been 
renewed from the city of Penn to tens of thou- 
sands. Holy resolution has been roused ; faith 
working by love is carrying Christian invitation 
and instruction to every city and village and 
hamlet, turning the hearts of the children to the 
parents, and the hearts of the parents to the 
children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of 
the just. At that word, from the haunts of pov- 
erty and vice, children are called forth into the 
school of Christ ; and returned to win their pa- 
rents by their gentleness and obedience. From 
the abodes of a mere earthly economy, and neat- 
ness and thrift, where parents and children to- 
gether, are neglectful of the Bible, indifferent to 

# "I can never (he remarked to Mr. Lancaster) pass by the 
spot where the word ." Try " came so powerfully to my mind? 
without lifting' up my hands and heart to heaven in gratitude to 
God for having put such a thought into my heart." 



THE TELESCOPE. 75 

eternity, the children are called forth to consider 
their latter end, and returned unconscious pro- 
phets of another world. Even from the temples 
of domestic piety, the children are invited to re- 
ceive the testimony of beloved friends, to those 
precious truths which they have been taught from 
their infancy, and to be aided by the sympathy 
of their companions. Happy the families thus 
preserved from examples and sympathies abroad, 
which formerly were wont to hinder or to blast 
the utmost care at home. Blessed schools, which 
restore the family to its proper work, or with skil- 
ful hand, feed and guide the well tended lambs 
of the parental fold. 

Try ! Let that word which gave existence to 
the Sabbath schools, perfect their power !- Ex- 
periment, patient and untiring ! What discov- 
eries in science has it revealed I What power 
has it prepared in the works of art ! From the 
simplest elements of thought, it has furnished a 
measure for the spheres. From the first rude in- 
ventions of untutored man, it has contrived the 
finished machines which have multiplied ten 
thousand fold the conveniences of life ! 

Try! Teachers! Let that word speak to 
your very soul, as it spoke to. the soul of Raikes, 



76 THE TELESCOPE. 

What wonders will it work in you ; what won- 
ders spread around you! Make experiment on 
yourselves, and see what stores of knowledge you 
can amass ; what aptness you can acquire to win 
and teach the tender mind. Examine the works 
of God ; above, below, around. Range the walks 
of history. Study the Bible, and with it nature 
and man, by which it displays the character of 
God. School memory, to ready and skilful re- 
collection; imagination to the conception of all 
that God reveals, and let faith guide it to the 
substance of things hoped for, to the reality of 
things not seen. Let reflection prepare and lay 
up wisdom in its deep treasury. Invention, let it 
never sleep, until all is contrived for the benefit 
of man, nor industry slacken until all is done. 
Piety, humble, fearful, trembling in its weak- 
ness, let it try the strength of the Almighty ! 
Shall a successor of Raikes be dull, and dole 
away the hour which he and his pupils alike 
wish to be over ! Shall the volunteer instructer 
of an immortal mind, be satisfied with the doing 
of a task? and not try to train himself to his 
high calling? 

Who is already wise ? Whose sanctified fancy 
holds clearly enough the things unseen ; or rea- 



THE TELESCOPE. 77 

son judges, or invention reaches to their utmost 
limit ? Where is the Sabbath school which does 
not fail to interest and bless the young immortals, 
for want of intelligent, interested, conscientious, 
believing teachers: — because Try has not fallen 
upon their souls as it fell upon the very soul of 
Raikes ? 

Parents, try ! That angel in the streets of 
Gloucester was no demon of temptation; no 
patron of parental ignorance and sloth ; no wolf 
to tear away the lambs from the parental fold. 
The shepherds were not caring for their lambs ; 
did not gather them with their arms, nor carry 
them in their bosoms, but left them to stray 
through brake and brier and slough, far away 
from the green pastures and the still waters of 
salvation. Raikes saw them, and opened to re- 
ceive them a little pasture beside a living spring ; 
that they might not perish, and that nature's 
shepherds might be warned and won to the care 
of their tender lambs. 

Parents ! be aroused and encouraged by this 
tenderness and care. Hasten to restore the fold, 
and open the pastures and fountains of domestic 
piety ; and all the Sabbath and all the week carry 
the lambs in your arms and gather them in your 
7 



78 THE TELESCOPE. 

bosom, and feed and refresh them around your 
door. Let home, sweet home, be the school of 
knowledge and religion, furnished with their 
richest treasures, with their aptest teachers. Let 
the sitting in the house, the walking by the way, 
the evening's lying down, and the morning's 
rising up, find the law of God dwelling in your 
heart, and flowing forth upon your children. 
Bow the knee in prayer ; and draw down upon 
the shepherds and their lambs a blessing, even 
life forever more. 

But imagination bears me to-day to the most 
interesting single scene which Philadelphia ever 
displays — the annual convocation of the Ameri- 
can Sunday School Union. The sun, great in- 
strument of light, renovator of the seasons, shines 
into my chamber, while at this instant it cheers 
the path of the multitude, as they are thronging 
the streets of Philadelphia : while a choice 
number from all parts of .our land are hasting to 
the house of God. 

Could there be a fitter place for this annual 
convocation, than this sacred solitude ; amidst, 
yet far from the haunts of men ; amidst, yet se- 
cluded from the din and bustle of the crowded 
city 1 As we go up the ascent to the house of 



THE TELESCOPE. 79 

God,* we turn and survey one of the finest fields, 
where nature has shed her choicest beauties over 
the handy work of art; covered with verdure 
unexcelled wavino- in the soft breeze ; and stud- 
ded with trees and shrubs in every variety of 
beauty. From every stem and leaf and flower 
the unclouded sun shines forth with gentle radi- 
ance upon the cheered eye of the gathering 
crowds. Oh who could look for a moment upon 
his dazzling brightness, as he now shines in glory 
from the heavens. Yet with what a cheered eye 
and gladdened heart we receive his rays, reflected 
from this beautiful and brilliant parterre- — from 
this blue canopy above. Even so within these 
courts of the Lord, shall we receive the healing 
light of the Sun of Righteousness, reflected on 
our sight from the nurseries and gardens of 
youthful piety. Even so will we, as their Pat- 
rons and Cultivators, shed forth the healing lus- 
tre of Christian example and influence. In our 
place and station we will receive the glory of the 
risen sun, and shed its softened radiance on the 
world. 

Here we enter thy courts, King of kings ! 
We meet to hear thy voice, of such is the king- 

* Presbyterian Church, Washington Square. 



80 THE TELESCOPE. 

dom of heaven. Oh how changed art thou, 
since thou didst lay thy hand upon the little 
ones : now that thou sittest on high : and thy 
countenance is like the sun shining in his strength. 
Look not forth upon us in that glory which cast 
the beloved disciple at thy feet as dead. Let us 
see thy softened light in the holiness of thy dis- 
ciples, and let us reflect that light upon the 
world. Help us in our families — in our schools 
— the elder and the younger together to receive 
and reflect thy healing light ! 

Amidst the interests of this holy convocation ; 
its earnest longings for a blessing on the young 
and on the old ; its personal penitence and faith 
and holy resolution, the sun is descending to- 
wards the mountains of the west. The light is 
softer ; the air is cooler ; the hour is fitter for 
holy consecration, while as with one heart we 
say in silence, The living, the living they shall 
praise thee, as we do this day : the elder to the 
younger shall declare thy truth. ... As we rise 
to depart, the evening shades are beginning to 
cover the earth : the sun is gilding the moun- 
tains and the rivers of the west with its setting 
glories — a sign of the soft influence of the Sab- 



THE TELESCOPE. 81 

bath schools, as it shall fall over that mighty val- 
ley which is the object of our councils to-day. 
The night is coming over us and we are to be 
cast again upon the protection of the Almighty, 
the Lord and giver of life. Surely he is not 
withdrawn, for he is bringing forth the full moon 
to pour all night the reflected light of the sun 
upon the earth; and the stars, to show himself 
to feeble man as the Lord God of Hosts. We 
will both lay ourselves down and sleep in peace, 
for thou Lord only makest us to dwell in safety. 
Oh if we arise to see once more the light of 
the sun, and again and again arise from our 
nightly death ; as we breathe the air and live 
upon the bounty of the Lord God of hosts, we 
will say by thy grace, The living, the living 

THEY SHALL PRAISE THEE : THE ELDER TO THE 
YOUNGER SHALL DECLARE THY TRUTH. 

If we rise again, we will go forth in the spirit 
of the departed Raikes, and try, until from 
the Atlantic shore to the farthest regions of the 
west, the whole land shall be filled with the pub- 
lic and the domestic schools of piety : and the 
Sabbath and the week shall unite their power to 
instruct and bless the rising race. " Then shall 



82 THE TELESCOPE. 

our sons be as plants grown up in their youth, 
and our daughters as corner stones polished after 
the similitude of a palace. Happy is that peo- 
ple THAT IS IN SUCH A CASE 
THAT PEOPLE WHOSE GOD IS THE LORD ! 



THE FIELD OF DEATH. 
Dated New York, April 6th, 1822. 

It requires no time for imagination to call up 
unseen realities, or to transport itself to past and 
future ages ; and faith can rest upon things un- 
seen, and upon the most distant futurity, as in- 
tently and as firmly, as sight, upon present things 
and passing events. It is profitable in the high- 
est sense, amidst the cares and bustle and hopes 
of this world, to indulge, not a wild, wandering 
imagination ; but a sacred and scriptural imagi- 
nation, which calls up in authorised forms those 
unseen realities, which bear an awful relation to 
our present condition. Who that will do this 
can have his mind engrossed and enslaved by 
" things seen and temporal V* While he mingles 
with unseen and future realities, and dwells upon 
the hidden scenery which Revelation discovers, 
he feels the sacredness and the responsibilities 
of his passing hour. Born but yesterday, and 
living for a day, I need not bury my soul in the 
present and the visible. There are other reali- 
ties, in which I am infinitely more concerned. 



84 THE TELESCOPE. 

I love to recall the imagery of ages past, which 
history and Scripture warrant, and to throw my- 
self into the midst of that untried futurity of 
which inspiration pourtrays the instructive and 
awful scenery. 

Often when walking the streets of our great 
and busy city, do I turn away my mind from the 
passing scenes, and lose myself in the vivid con- 
ception of the unnoticed realities which have 
a present existence — of the revealed realities, 
which I conceive are yet to have existence on 
the very ground we now tread upon — and never 
with deeper interest than upon that " Field of 
Death," situated at the very confluence of the 
business and pleasure of our city.* From what 
a commanding position, and with what a ghastly 
aspect, does Death look down upon the great 
arena f of our city's business: how he seems 
with his hundred thousand victims to block up 
the very avenue of our wealth, our speculations, 
and our commerce ; and what a chilling frown 
meets the expecting and the successful specula- 
tor, as he strives to pass by, unheeding and un- 

* " It is ascertained that more than 100,000 persons have been in- 
terred in Trinity Church-yard alone ; and it has long been impossible 
to inter one, without disinterring another." 

f Wall-street. 



THE TELESCOPE. 85 

heeded ! With what a ghastly aspect looks he 
on the ceaseless stream of parade and fashion and 
pride, along that brilliant thoroughfare, over 
which he presides ! * With what a chilling frown 
he meets the glee of folly, the swell of vanity, 
the gaudy trappings of the gay, morning or eve- 
ning, as they pass, by thousands! Did they see 
the frown of Death — did they see his heaps of 
long slain victims, piled rudely upon heaps — what 
an appalling thrill and dread would corner upon 
the throng who give all their activity and ear- 
nestness, to the gettings of this fleeting hour ! 
How are their eyes holden that they see Him 
not ! — Was it for nought that He who directs the 
destinies of our citizens, whose Providence con- 
curs with the gracious invitation of his word to 
lay hold on eternal life, should have placed on 
such a commanding eminence, Death's crowded 
field ! Oh, was it for nought that the parade, 
and fashion, and pride, which glory in the van- 
ishing realities of the moment, must all pass the 
Field of Death ! — that vanity must strut and va- 
por its fleeting hour, that giddy thoughtless folly 
must all day long tread on the border of the 
Field of Death ! 

* Broadway. 



86 THE TELESCOPE. 

How silent is this crowded field ! Was ever 
crowd so still ? They utter no complaints, they 
teach no lesson, save with the silent eloquence 
of Death. Once they were moved by our mo- 
tives, and mingled in the affairs of men : — but 
now how silent ! The rattle of the crowded 
streets disturbs them not. The anxieties, and 
hopes, and desires, which hold the passing throng 
of living mortals in eager pursuit, and which 
mingk Tt with the air from a multitude of tongues, 
as all day long the ceaseless procession of " a 
proud and gay and gain devoted city " passes on, 
disturb not the breathless silence of the Field of 
Death. If the sun shine, or the heavens black- 
en ; if summer cover their habitation with the 
green grass and the flowering shrub, and gently 
wave the foliage of its elms and willows with its 
southern breeze ; or if winter strip away the 
vegetation of the Field of Death, and overspread 
it with an icy covering, fowling among the sur- 
rounding tenements of the living, around the 
Death environed church, and across the graves — 
this mighty congregation heed it not : — The Sab- 
bath, with its symphony of prayer and praise, 
seeming to disenthral the Death-field of its ter- 
rors ; the week day, with its jar, and noise, and 



THE TELESCOPE. 87 

confusion — are alike to them. Along the ave- 
nues of business and pleasure they cast no anx- 
ious looks. ' Who owns the real estate ; who 
manages the banks ; whose richly laden ships 
come safely into port; who rolls in splendor, and 
who rules the state — they ask not, care not. 
Gathered from the east and from the west, the 
children of two continents and many islands here 
sleep together. The rich and the poor, the hon- 
orable and the base, crowd each other in their 
narrow house — moulder and mix their earthly 
frames together. They lie unnoticing, but not 
unnoticed. He, who sustained their living 
frames, watches their sleeping dust. The fair 
and garnished habitation here lies in ruins. But 
the immortal tenants stay not in this Field of 
Death. It is sown with the bodies, not with the 
spirits of men. They live, but where 1 Oh, 
who can tell me where 1 Live they in the bliss 
of Heaven, or in the pains of Hell 1 Oh, could 
the Death-Field speak and tell the history of its 
hundred thousand — what mingled sounds might 
break upon our ear ! What wailings might issue 
from the tombs of the gay youth, of the prosper- 
ous speculator, of the rich capitalist, whose 
souls were required of them in the moment of 



88 THE TELESCOPE. 

their vainest hopes ! What songs of the youth- 
ful and aged, of the rich and poor, of the pros- 
perous and afflicted, who were found watching 
and waiting for the coming of their Lord ! 

We know not where they dwell. Yet we be- 
lieve, that to every ruined habitation, there is in 
some untried region, a living but absent spirit. 
As many bodies moulder sown in earth, so many 
spirits live, awaiting the day of their re-union. 
Immortal spirits wait to re-occupy their long de- 
serted habitations, and often cast a look through 
the distance to those mouldering ruins, once so 
precious, now so vile, and yet again to be re- 
stored by the power of God. When many ages 
more shall have rolled over the sleeping thousands 
of this crowded Death-field ; when the vacant 
squares of our wide extended city shall be each 
a garden of the dead ; when many millions shall 
have slept with us and with our fathers, and min- 
gled quietly with the dust of the Island of our 
habitation ; when, after many ages of the reign 
of Jesus, countless millions await a glorious res- 
urrection, and Satan for a little season beguiles 
again the sons of men : — 

Then, on such a morning as I now behold, 
when the sun is mounting towards his midday 



THE TELESCOPE. 89 

height, tracing his track, trodden from the foun- 
dation of the world, and seen as he has been 
seen in the splendor of an unclouded morn by 
the countless millions of the human race — when 
busy crowds are careering their way along our 
avenues of business and pleasure, and their hearts 
are beating high with hopes of long life and large 
inheritance : 

Then, will the heavens thicken with a mighty 
cloud, and in the twinkling of an eye a trump will 
sound, arresting in the street and in the house, 
on the land and on the sea, the thousands of our 
city, and the millions of our world — and every 
eye from pole to pole shall in an instant turn to 
gaze upon the portentous signs of an abused or 
received Redeemer in the air : Then shall the 
hidden dust ascend — a great and living congrega- 
tion from the Field of Death — a spectacle to an 
amazed city, mingling in the rising ruins of the 
whole family of man — a momentary prelude to 
the ascension of the living and the conflagration 
of the world. 

Reader, thou wilt shortly be a tenant in a Field 
of Death. In the day of thy soul's reunion to 
its mouldered body, mayest thou hear thy Sav- 
iour say, " Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 
8 



NEW YORK AND THE AMERICAN BIBLE SOCIETY. 
May 12th, 1831. 

The following article was forwarded for the New York Ohserver of 
JVJay 7th, but did not reach its destination. It is preserved in its 
original form, as a memorial of the spiritual blessings of the spring 
of 1831, and a grateful recognition of the signs which claim the 
faith and zeal of the revived church. 

Years have passed since the writer of this 
article has had the privilege of mingling with his 
fellow Christians at the Anniversary of the 
American Bible Society, around which so 
many other interesting convocations are arranged 
like clusters on the vine. Let me in imagination 
be seated under the shadow of it, and let its 
fruit be sweet unto my taste. 

I shall conceive the 12th of May, 1831 , as 
ushered in upon the assembled Christians of the 
country, by a soft and gentle dawning, shining 
brighter and brighter, until the glowing and un- 
clouded sun shall arise above the horizon, as in 
the most lovely mornings of that lovely month. 
That soft and gentle dawning will assure the city 
of our solemnities, that he is still travelling his 
wonted and unwearied course, and has reached 



THE TELESCOPE. 91 

already the shores of Newfoundland. In an 
hour, he will rise and shine upon the eastern 
boundary of the United States. In half an hour, 
he will gild the turrets of New York, greeting 
from Christian temples, the Everlasting Sign, 
the glowing image of the Sun of Righteous- 
ness : — Then he will come forth from his eastern 
chambers as a bridegroom ; rejoicing as a strong 
man to run a race. In an hour, he will rise upon 
the lakes and rivers of the west ; and from every 
dew-drop glistening in his rays, from every stem 
and leaf and flower in every hue of beauty, will 
be confirmed to that mighty valley, the ancient 
promise of the Almighty : Unto you that fear 
my name, shall the sun of righteousness arise 
with healing in his wings. In an hour, the 
Rocky mountains will reply to his rising beams : 
With everlasting kindness will I have mercy on 
thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer.* In another 
hour he will reach the shores of the Pacific ; re- 
vealing to the wild man, the love of God. The 
hill-tops on which the storm has been raging and 
the thunders rolling, will glow with the morning 
sun, and be vocal with the music of the birds, 
foreshowing the day-spring from on high, and 

* Isaiah liv. 8—10. 



92 THE TELESCOPE. 

the songs of Zion. In another hour, when the 
friends of the Bible will be assembling from ev- 
ery quarter of the city, speaking one to another 
the words of those that fear the Lord, and that 
think upon his name ; while the record is making 
on high in characters of light, and the soft whis- 
per to the soul is heard, They shall be mine when 
I make up my jewels ; the sun will be rising upon 
the waste expanse of the Pacific, where to his 
morning rays, ocean, with all its waves, will re- 
ply in chorus, While the sun ?*ises and the ocean 
roars, God will he gracious. 

In another hour, the day will begin to dawn 
upon the Christian natives of Oahu and Ota- 
heite, as they go forth amid the palm groves to 
welcome the God of the morning to their hearts. 
At that sacred hour, when the Bible shall be 
opened and its promise read in the ear of the 
listening crowd, the everlasting sign will be 
declaring its truth, in the morning dawn, on the 
Christian isles of the Pacific, and in the last rays 
of evening twilight upon the patient toils of those 
who sow in hope on the coast of Malabar ; cov- 
ering all America and Europe and Africa and 
western Asia, with its unchanging testimony to 
the oath and promise of the Lord : Yet giving 



THE TELESCOPE. 93 

its special witness, amid the lingering glories of 
the far spent day upon the mountains of Israel, 
and greeting with its special smiles the collected 
friends of the Bible, in the city of New York. 
It was not without reason that the American 
Bible Society, following the example of her 
illustrious Parent, chose for her annual convoca- 
tion, that season when the Sun looks forth upon 
the northern hemisphere, with his vernal radi- 
ance and warmth : gladdening the valleys and 
the hills and the mountain tops : giving the seed 
time, and the promise of the harvest : every 
where expanding nature into beauty and produc- 
tion. The festival will return again, amidst the 
unfolding testimonies of the renovated earth. 
Here, the sun will be entering the pores of the 
mellowed soil, warming into life-giving death, 
seeds innumerable, that they may bring forth 
food for man. There, he will be training the tall 
wheat, how rapidly from its bed of snow ! here, 
swelling the bud: there, unfolding the flower, or 
from the embryo fruit dropping the fragrant pe- 
tals to be wafted in the breeze : every where car- 
peting the earth with grass, and adorning garden 
and hedge and field and forest, with flowers of 
every fragrance and color : every where receiving 
8* 



94 THE TELESCOPE. 

from the warmed and moistened earth the re- 
sponding witness, My word shall not return to 
me void. On that festal day, while the sun is 
coming up and overspreading the whole breadth 
of our land with light, and fertility, and beauty, 
the mountains and the hills will break forth into 
singing, and all the trees of the field will clap 
their hands; while from earliest dawn the birds, 
in simple notes and oft repeated song, will say on 
this May morning, Let every thing that hath 

BREATH PRAISE THE LORD. 

The mind has fixed upon this morning and 
vernal scenery, at once beautiful and sublime ; 
awakening the deepest awe and the most softened 
and gentle admiration ; because it is so fitted to 
win the trembling heart of man to Him, who 
daily gives in all the habitations of men, the 
mildest and most powerful tokens of his love ; 
and because the natural sun is the chosen sign 
and emblem of that grace which the Bible re- 
veals for the salvation of the world. 

Can any thing in human thought or language 
be more attractive to the heart, than those scrip- 
tures, which represent the Saviour under the em- 
blem of the natural sun ? Unto you that fear 
my name, says Malachi, shall the sun of right- 



THE TELESCOPE 95 

eousness arise with healing in his wings. Zech- 
ariah prophesied of the day-spring from on high, 
to give light to them that sit in darkness and in 
the region and shadoio of death ; to guide our 
feet in the way of peace. Simeon, with the in- 
fant Saviour in his arms, said, Mine eyes have 
seen thy salvation, which thou least prepared be- 
fore the face of all people, a light to lighten 
the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel. 
Peter commended the sure word of prophecy to 
be considered and pondered, until the day should 
dawn and the day-star arise in the heart ; perhaps 
remembering the while, that morning of bitter 
weeping, when from the hall of Pilate, he went 
forth as with grief incurable : — how amidst the 
shadows of the moon, descending behind the city 
of the Great King, he went perhaps again over 
the brook Kidron, towards the Mount of Olives, 
dark, gloomy, and despairing ; — how the cock- 
crowing through all Jerusalem cut him to the 
heart ; — how, as he went up the Mount of Olives, 
crying in agony, Lord, to whom shall 1 go but 
unto thee ; thou hast the words of eternallife ; the 
serene day-star met his weeping eye, and the 
dawning of the day came in on that night of sor- 
row ; and that look of the Saviour in the hall of 



96 THE TELESCOPE. 

Pilate, seemed changed into the balmy morning 
of the sun of righteousness, rising with heal- 
ing in his beams ! 

It must be, as in the case of the writer, that 
this lovely and glorious emblem of the grace of 
the Saviour will have new interest at the present 
season, from greater familiarity with that dark- 
ness and shadow of death in which the con- 
vinced sinner feels himself after the candles of 
his own righteousness are gone out. It must be 
that many will be present at the anniversary of 
the twelfth of May, whose privilege it has been, 
like his, to come in as a feeble day-star amidst 
the darkness, and to have witnessed the dawning 
of the Sun of Righteousness on the night of the 
soul, healing its agony. It must be that many, 
as they meet to do honor to the Bible, will say 
within themselves as tl)ey tread thy hallowed 
streets, metropolis of ltght, " Surely the 
day has dawned upon our cheered hearts ; we 
have been healed by the gentle beams of the 
sun of righteousness." Doubtless those will 
be there, over whom many a cloud has passed ; 
hiding for a season his cheering beams : whose 
eye has often drowsed or slept ; yet who again 
and again have been joyful in his returned or 



THE TELESCOPE. 97 

discovered light, varying, yet shining brighter 
and brighter in the progress to the perfect day. 
On that hallowed morn the Christian multitude, 
joyful in the presence of their Lord, will be able 
to say : We have not followed cunningly devised 
fables, when we made known the power and 
coming of the Lord Jesus, but have been eye 
witnesses of his majesty. The day-star has 
arisen, the day has dawned, and the healing 
beams have shone upon our souls. Will not the 
believing, joyful throng, hear the voice which at- 
tends the day : His voice who goes forth as a 
bridegroom to win each family and neighbor- 
hood end town and city, our country and all na- 
tions, as his bride? Arise and shine, for the 

GLORY OF THE LORD IS ARISEN UPON THEE. 

Jf there be any occasion when the American 
church may be supposed, in one universal as- 
sembly, to be sitting in the light, and listening 
to the voice of her heavenly bridegroom, it must 
be at the anniversary of that Society, which 
unites ALL who love the Lord, in circulating 
the book, which bears the name of its divine 
Author, and is called the word of God: — itself 
the medium of that light, of which He, the 
true light, is the fountain and the source ; and 



98 THE TELESCOPE. 

which goes forth in silent majesty converting the 
soul. And if there be any anniversary, appro- 
priate to such a call, it must be that which is to 
occur on the 12th of May, 1831. Amidst the 
beauties of this spring-time of the natural and 
spiritual year, she will hear the voice of her be- 
loved : Rise up my love, my fair one, and come 
abroad. For to, the winter is past, the rain is 
over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; 
the time of the singing of birds is come, and the 
voice of the turtle is heard in our land. Arise, 
my love, my fair one, and come abroad. Arise 

AND SHINE, FOR THE GLORY OF THE LORD IS 

risen upon thee. Never, perhaps, since the 
world began, did such a spring awake upon the 
earth ; never such a May morning dawned and 
shone, as hastens to adorn the coming anniver- 
sary ; never, before the light of the church had 
been cast upon the pagan world, and reflected 
back with increasing glory on her sons and 
daughters around her ; and they were seen, as 
now, flying like a cloud, and as the doves to 
their windows. 

With what interest, with what a hearty cove- 
nant, with what fixed determination, yet with 
what trembling self-distrust, and glorying only in 



THE TELESCOPE. 99 

infirmity, may we suppose the Redeemer's call 
will be heard by that representative assembly ; 
will be urged by those who shall be the organs to 
the public ear, and will be transmitted to the 
Green mountains and the lakes, to Massachu- 
setts bay and Passamaquoddy, over the Allegha- 
ny ridge, along the rivers of the west and the 
Atlantic shore: Arise and shine, for the 

GLORY OF THE LORD IS RISEN UPON THEE. 

But the Redeemer waits not the eloquence of 
man. Ere yet the tongue of the learned and 
devout wakes into harmony, the call will have 
gone over the whole land in the soft eloquence 
of light : in the truth of an everlasting sign. 

" Church of the living God, arise. Look to 
thy heavenly bridegroom with the eye of prayer : 
as meek, as earnest, as wakeful, as of old, from 
gloom and suffering, from the dungeon and the 
scaffold. Shine, humble as the morning, when 
the dark, colorless earth receives from the sun 
her renewed robe of beauty ; yet, glorious as 
thy day, more holy, more useful than prophets 
and righteous men who lived in the dawning. 
Vaunt not thyself; but call thy kindred and thy 
neighbors and all nations to the glory of the 
Lord arisen on thee. Shine in the free light 



100 THE TELESCOPE. 

of day. Rush not to tower or mountain top. 
The light falls on the valley and the plain ; is 
reflected from the lawn, from the field, from the 
garden, from stem and leaf and flower, as bright 
as from tower top or mountain brow. If any 
say, Lo here ! lo there ! believe them not ; but 
in thy place and station receive and reflect the 
glory of the Lord arisen upon thee. Abide in 
the light. Hide not thyself again in the dun- 
geon of declension, or in the chambers of indo- 
lence, singing or dreaming amidst thy chosen 
gloom: — The bridegroom has departed, and seeks 
not now to win all people as his bride. Shine by 
the word of God ; enlightening the eyes, con- 
verting the soul. Wield the arts of men with 
the mightiest energies of nature, and throw the 
sun beams into every habitation of men." 

In harmony with the soft eloquence of light, 
with the truth of the everlasting sign, how will 
the assembly sit entranced, persuaded ! How 
melted in holy sympathy ! How earnest for the 
Saviour's glory and for man's salvation ! How 
strong in holy resolution ! How sincere the as- 
surance in the felt presence of the all-seeing : 
Lord thou knowest all tilings, thou hiowest that 
we love thee ! The resolution will be accepted : 



THE TELESCOPE. 101 

the assurance acknowledged, as the sun de- 
scending towards the west, enlightens the paths 
of the dispersing crowds, — bearing its witness 
over the whole continent of America, over the 
Society and Sandwich islands : while the re- 
sponse will be sung by all the waves of the At- 
lantic and the Pacific, as they roll basking in 
the day. Let the assembly disperse in faith and 
holy resolution. As the day fades away, the 
moon and the stars will give forth over our land 
their silent witness the livelong night; while the 
dawning and glory of the morning will rise upon 
Japan and China and the mountains of Hima- 
laya and the plains of the Ganges, striking the 
turrets of pagoda and mosque ; and calling all the 
dark nations to worship the God of the morning, 
the Author of salvation. Let the assembly 

DISPERSE IN HOPE AND HOLY RESOLUTION. As 

the evening twilight of the 12th of May shall 
fade away, the morning will begin to dawn upon 
the tops of Lebanon and Carmel* and Zion ! 
Once more on the heights of Israel, desolate and 
forsaken, the sign will be renewed, that God will 
fulfil to his people the promise of the new cove- 
nant, that all shall know the Lord from the 

* Jer. xxxi. 35. 

9 



102 THE TELESCOPE. 

least to the greatest; and afflicted, chastened, 
broken-hearted Jerusalem be built again to the 
Lord from the tower of Hanemeel unto the gate 
of the corner : and the whole valley from the 
brook Kidron be holy unto the Lord I As the 
American Church rests in the arms of the Re- 
deemer on the night of the 12th of May, the ris- 
ing sun will strike the minarets of Jerusalem : 
and the desolate top of Zion : — a sign to the 
trespassing Mussulman, to the unbelieving Jew, 
and to thy heralds, word of God, — the sun for 
a light by day, a renewed and everlasting sign, 
of the recovery of the seed of Israel as life to 

THE WORLD. 

Go forth, thou oracle of the living God ! Rod 
of the Saviour's strength, go forth from Zion. 
Great sun of righteousness, shine by thy 
word, and enlighten, and convert our kindred, 
our neighbors, our country, and the world. Go 
make the nations thy willing people : in the 
beauties of holiness, from the womb of the morn- 
ing, fresh, abundant in the dew of thy youth L 



THE TELESCOPE. 103 

On Lebanon, on Zion's hill, 

Arise and in thy glory shine ; 
Ages have given, oh Lord fulfil 

Thine own, the everlasting sign ! 

Arise, with healing in thy wings, 

And comfort Israel's broken heart ; 
While Judah's daughter wakes and sings 

Thy kindness never can depart. 

Let Israel's glory move the night 

From desert and from wilderness ; 
On Zion's top reveal its light, 

And all the Gentile nations bless. 

From darkness and from dawn, break forth 
Thou glorious Sun, converting word! 

From east to west, from south to north, 
O'er Christian realm, o'er savage horde. 

Thro' all our land, thy light reveal ; 

And let its soften' d radiance glow, 
From mountain, plain, and deepest vale. 

On which thy beams of glory flow. 

Lighten the islands of Japan ; 

O'er China's millions rise and shine : 
At Delhi, and at Ispahan; 

Around the cross of Constantine. 

From Egypt to the Caffree's land, 
From Greece, and Italy, and Spain, 

To Iceland and the Loffoden, 
From Finisterre to Astracan. 



104 THE TELESCOPE. 

From Alaska to Newfoundland, 

O'er Christian realm, o'er pagan horde, 

From Mexico to Magellan, 
Arise, thou all-converting word ! 

The oath confirm'd by daily light : 
Confirm'd by every ocean's swell ; 

By all the splendors of the night, 
Confirm'd for ages, now fulfil ! 



THE BOX OPENED. 
Dated New York, Oct. 6, 1821. 

The public have been informed that a leaden 
box, containing medallions, coins, books, news- 
papers, &c. has been formally deposited in one 
of the four pillars, just erected at the great gate- 
ways of the Park in this city — deposited as a 
legacy to a distant posterity. Sublime and 
solemn act ! How many ages may roll away 
before those solid pillars, tottering by the hand 
of time, shall be removed, and the legacy be 
found ! 

When all our present citizens have long — long 
been buried in the earth ; when all that is now 
great or honorable of our population shall be 
lost in the night of antiquity ; when our never- 
dying spirits shall have been long happy in hea- 
ven or wretched in hell ; when the city of New 
York, long a "city of the Lord," shall over- 
spread the Island of Manhattan, and the millions 
<of her population shall be of one heart and one 
9* 



106 THE TELESCOPE. 

mind ; when the Bible shall be the dearest trea- 
sure of every individual, and the voice of prayer 
and praise, and the sacrifice of obedience shall 
ascend from every house; when "her people 
shall be all righteous," her "walls salvation, and 
her gates praise ;" when the eye, surveying the 
crowds up and down our present Broadway, shall 
not see one who is not a friend and brother in 
Jesus Christ ; when her thousand temples shall 
be filled with devout and joyful worshippers, and 
her Sabbaths a heaven below : — 

When the forests of the west, subdued by the 
hand of Christian industry, shall have become a 
fruitful field, and an English and Christian peo- 
ple shall spread from the Atlantic to the Pacific 
— from Mexico to Labrador ; when from a mil- 
lion temples, shall ascend the joyful homage of 
the American church "in spirit and in truth ;" 
when the gospel shall have been preached in all 
nations, and received by all nations ; when war 
shall have ceased under the mild reign of the 
prince of peace, and "every knee shall bow 
and every tongue confess" — when 

" One song employs all nations, and all cry, 
6 Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us : — ' " 



THE TELESCOPE. 107 

When the church, having perhaps for centuries 
embraced the whole earth, remembers no more 
the reproach of her tvidowhood ; — when the tra- 
dition of a sinful age has ceased, and only on the 
page of history can be learnt, the folly, and vice, 
and impiety of ancient times : — 

THEN, since ruin is inscribed upon the 
strongest monuments; since massy columns can- 
not stand forever — then, if itself survive the 
wreck of time, will this long unknown memorial 
of ancient days be discovered by a generation so 
remote that they cannot trace back their line of 
ancestry to us ; be inherited by a new and holy 
population : a memorial of the arts and sciences, 
the heroes and statesmen, not only, but of cus- 
toms and follies, and vices, which have long 
passed from the memory and tradition of men. 
Methinks as the men of other times cluster around 
the spot where these pillars stand, and listen 
to some venerable and holy sage, while he de- 
scribes the manners of the ancients from their 
bequeathed memorials, that regret, and shame, 
and astonishment will awhile trouble every bo- 
som. " There" he may say, " stood the theatre, 
where the mouldered dead, as says the page of 
ancient story, trifled their short lives away, met 



108 THE TELESCOPE. 

the votaries of vice, and drowned their souls in 
perdition. Yonder stood the debtor's prison ; — 
yonder the bridewell — receptacle of crime : — 
there stands the ancient hall of justice, now the 
seat of mercy. Here, on the Park, met and 
mingled on many a day of dissipation the vicious 
and profane. All along down Broadway were 
the lottery offices, the idler's hope, the country's 
ruinous tax. There poured an unceasing tide 
of dress, and fashion, and parade — of vanity and 
pride. Gain was the people's god. Strong locks 
and bars guarded every house, and were trafficked 
in .every street. Drunkenness was an article of 
commerce, was bought and sold in every block — 
the buyer's and the seller's ruin. The sword 
and spear, the musket and the cannon, which 
history describes as weapons of murderous war- 
fare, and as beaten centuries ago into plough- 
shares and pruning hooks, were sold in enormous 
quantities, and stored in mighty magazines. — 
Even here, often poured the parade of soldiery ; 
here roared the thunder of arras, in mimic war- 
fare, while music, made for heaven's praise, 
pealed insultingly in martial strains to heaven. 
In all the earth, pride and ambition filled the 
minds of men, and even tarnished the purity of 



THE TELESCOPE. 109 

believers. The daily news revealed thefts, and 
contentions, and murders, from the cottage to 
the throne ; and piracies and man-stealing, and 
nation warring against nation." Awful exhibi- 
tions of antiquity, to men whose hearts are love ; 
when lust and hate and war are known no more, 
but lie forgotten like the barbarous rites of our 
own heathen ancestry. 

Yet they will dwell upon whatever of great 
and good they find in the memorial. When all 
that this world admires has ceased to be admir- 
ed, the record of the Bible Society will conse- 
crate the Daily Advertiser, which transmits the 
most glorious of all our institutions to the admi- 
ration of a distant posterity: — the bible socie- 
ty, which sends down a stream of mercy, swell- 
ing as it flows, turning the desert into a fruitful 
field, the wilderness into a garden of the Lord. 

It was an oversight, in sending down the do- 
ings of our age to a posterity, who will love the 
Bible and the Saviour, not to add the religious 
publications of our city : — the Christian Herald, 
the Christian Journal, the Methodist Magazine 
and the Missionary Register, little known indeed 
to our present generation, but worthy to transmit 
along with the memorials of our arts and sciences, 



110 THE TELESCOPE. 

our follies and our vices, the general efforts 
which are making to bring to pass among all 
nations, the dominion of the Saviour of the 
world. Then might the assembled crowd which 
I have imagined gathered around the ancient 
dilapidated pillars at the Park, see that even 
in our iron age, there was a little of the fear 
of God, of the love of Jesus, of the faith of good 
things to come. 

Such an assembly our eyes never saw. An 
assembly of which the present dwellers of our 
city are unworthy to be the ancestry. What 
emotions of holy gratitude would fill their souls, 
while looking back upon sinful antiquity ! And, 
assembled on a spot once the arena of folly and 
sin, would they not spontaneously pour forth a 
song of praise to the giver of all good. The 
writer of this article is far too feeble in genius, 
too low in holy feeling to conceive the strain. 
Yet he seems to hear thousands of voices, from 
ground once polluted, sending up to heaven 
a song of praise in a far higher, holier, more 
heavenly strain than this : 



THE TELESCOPE. m 



MILLENNIAL HYMN. 

Christ 's our King : He reigns below : 
We yield ourselves to Thee alone : 

Redeem'd from sin, redeem'd from wo, 
We cleave entirely to thy throne. 

The locks and bars are all remov'd 

Throughout our city family : 
The prisons now are known no more : 

Love, is our bond of harmony. 

In all our streets, they love thy name, 
To Thee, in every house they bow ; 

A thousand temples sound thy praise, 
Our Sabbaths are a heaven below. 

The sword and spear, and wrath and pride, 
The battle-field, the victor's mirth, 

A country's joy at groans and death, 
Are known no more in all the earth. 

The tribes of men are all the Lord's,. 

Earth is his wide and fair abode ; 
The sun in all his daily course, 

Shines only on the sons of God. 



THE HEIR OF HEAVEN.— Rev. vii. 14. 

I do not know that my sufferings were greater 
than the common lot. I was less afflicted 
than multitudes ; far less, than those who trem- 
ble for years under the uplifted hand of perse- 
cution ; or who pined in the dungeon, or died 
on the scaffold, or at the stake ; or who bewail- 
ed their imprisoned and murdered friends. I 
was even less afflicted than multitudes, who 
sought in outward blessings their highest good : 
whose schemes were baffled ; whose prospects 
were blasted ; whose heart was overwhelmed, 
without a rock of refuge. Yet I was a sufferer, 
and out of great tribulation, came up hither. I 
was tried in the furnace that I might be brought 
forth as gold. 

I had my share of afflictions which were ob- 
vious to the public eye, but my most frequent 
and poignant sufferings were secret to myself. 
My heart alone knew its own bitterness, and no 



THE TELESCOPE. 113 

stranger was acquainted with my grief. God 
only was the observer of my sufferings. He 
chastened me as a father for my profit, that I 
might be a partaker of his holiness. He chas- 
tened me in secret, that I might be forced to tell 
him my sorrows; that 1 might not seek instead 
of Him, some friend helpless as myself, but might 
be meekly and quietly in subjection to the Father 
of spirits and live. 

I was a sufferer even at my best estate. As I 
arose the mount of prosperity, I was still in the 
region of cares and woes ; of fears and suffer- 
ings. As I took my rank among the prosperous, 
I saw them beset with perplexities and difficul- 
ties, peculiar to themselves, and still exposed to 
the common lot of sickness, calamity, losses, and 
bereavement. I submitted to a discipline from 
which there was no escape. I even yielded, 
often cheerfully and with thankfulness, to the 
hand which chastened me amidst the profusion 
of its gifts. It was good for me that I found a 
thorough intermixture of bitterness in the sweet- 
est cup of life. Thus my longing was increased 
for the waters of salvation ; I was made to hun- 
ger and thirst after righteousness until I was 
filled. 

10 



114 THE TELESCOPE. 

But I was often visited with cares and suffer- 
ings so perplexing, and so severe, that I was 
tempted to forget the blessings intermixed. I 
needed food, and raiment, and shelter — and they 
were given me as my heavenly Father saw best, 
but amidst uncertainties and difficulties which 
awoke sometimes the deepest anxiety. I was 
compelled to rise early, to sit up late, and eat 
the bread of carefulness, as if the body was to 
be sustained by the neglect of the soul ; and I 
sighed for more leisure for meditation and prayer, 
even for a lonely wilderness and a hermit's cell, 
that I might give my thoughts to God. I had 
not yet learned, that the occasions of care, and 
anxiety, and labor, furnished the school for the 
recovery of my soul. It was here that I learned 
how much I needed the help of Him, who won 
me by his daily kindness amidst daily necessi- 
ties, to make Him my everlasting portion. I felt 
that I could not live a day, or an hour, or a 
moment, without Him. "I cried unto the Lord 
in my trouble, and he delivered me out of my 
distresses." I even said — "There is none upon 
the earth that I desire besides thee." He sup- 
plied the wants which forced me to ask his kind- 
ness, and gave me infinitely more : a fixed and 



THE TELESCOPE. 115 

settled choice of Himself, as my portion and 
friend. As he stretched out His hand to feed 
and clothe me, I saw that He was able and 
willing to bestow more than I could ask or 
think ; even to give me a perfect and unbroken 
fellowship with the Friend, to whom in my ex- 
tremity I resorted so anxiously. In my pros- 
perity, I forgot the Giver of my mercies, which I 
was learning to ascribe to my own industry and 
skill ; which I was heedlessly and proudly taking 
to myself as other gods. How kindly did my 
heavenly Father threaten to strip me of every 
blessing, and make me cast over the future a 
look of helplessness and despair. How precious 
were the seasons, when I turned and asked of 
my Father in heaven my daily bread, and found 
myself hungering and thirsting after righteous- 
ness. I began with seeking the provisions of 
my body, and I ended in a fulness of blessings 
for the soul. I was abundantly satisfied with 
the fatness of his house ; and drank of the river 
of his pleasures. I said within my heart, "with 
thee is the fountain of life ; in thy light shall I 
see life. Oh continue thy loving kindness unto 
them that know thee, and thy righteousness unto 
the upright in heart." I had longed to be re- 



116 THE TELESCOPE. 

leased from want, and care, and perplexity, and 
temptation, that I might have fellowship with 
God ; but I learned by experience, that these 
were the means which I needed to incline my 
heart to draw near to Him. 

I needed yet severer discipline. I was vigor- 
ous in body and in mind, and was concentrating 
my energies upon a design which promised good 
to men and glory to God ; yet overrating my 
skill, and forgetting how helpless I was — I was 
leaning to my own understanding, and setting a 
value upon my own services, when I was hum- 
bled under the mighty hand of God, that I might 
be exalted in due time. I sunk under bitter 
sickness. My strength of body, and vigor of 
mind, failed me in an hour. I felt as a worm 
and no man. At the divine rebuke, all my 
beauty consumed away as the moth. As I lay 
crushed beneath the hand of the Almighty, una- 
ble to lift my head from the pillow which his 
kindness had left me, I bowed submissive to his 
chastening hand. I bewailed the folly which 
made me honor my loaned powers ; I prayed 
for restoring, forgiving, and upholding mercy. 
"Oh Lord, I am oppressed ; undertake for me. 
What shall I say ? He hath both spoken unto 



THE TELESCOPE. 117 

me, and himself hath done it. I shall go softly ' 
all my days in the bitterness of my soul." The 
Lord heard my groaning, and forgave me ; and 
brought me up slowly from the gates of death, and 
helped me to say, "Thou hast in love to my soul 
delivered it from the pit of corruption : for thou 
hast cast all my sins behind thy back. — The 
Lord was ready to save me." As my strength 
returned, I received it as the gift of God. As 
my mind resumed its energies, I tried to employ 
all its faculties for Him ; saying, " The living, 
the living, he shall praise thee as I do this day." 
I had maladies of the mind. I felt often 
trembling, and darkness, and horror, when all 
was well to the eye of my nearest and dearest 
friends. I could not tell always, how far they 
were produced by diseases of the body, when 
they belonged to the weakness and helplessness 
of a creature, or when they were the direct con- 
sequences of the errors of a sinful mind. Some- 
times, I knew they were the secret workings of 
disease upon a frame always tending to death : 
holding a spirit not yet fully taught to make God 
its refuge. Sometimes they were the passions 
of a feeble spirit, struggling with inward sins 
and outward difficulties, still failing to trust in 
10* 



1 1 8 THE TELESCOPE. 

God its strength ; and often, I knew they were 
the misgivings of an immortal soul which sought 
again and again a fulness from the dry fountains 
of the world. Blessed seasons, of trembling, and 
darkness, and horror ! I came to God because I 
was broken and decayed in spirit — because I 
was craving in my inmost soul ; and I sought 
Him and found Him as my portion forever. I 
said again and again, in the midst of light burst- 
ing over clouds of darkness and gloom, " Why 
art thou cast down, O my soul, and why art thou 
disquieted within me? Trust thou in God, for I 
shall yet praise Him, who is the health of my 
countenance and my God !" 

But I did not live alone. I was successively 
a member and a head of a family, and from 
childhood to life's end, had its varied opportuni- 
ties ; its tribulations as well as its mercies. I 
suffered from anxieties and fears, even when no 
real evils occurred. 1 trembled in expectation of 
accidents, which never befel me or mine ; of 
diseases, of which I saw only the faintest symp- 
toms ; of deaths, which for years a kind Provi- 
dence delayed. I cannot now call it folly to 
have been so sensitive. I see that I was placed 
not only in a state of suffering, but of anxiety 



THE TELESCOPE. 119 

and fear ; that when no heavy calamities were 
upon me, I might seek the guidance and the aid 
and the cheering presence of my heavenly Fa- 
ther. A thousand times, when pride, and vain 
glory, and worldly satisfaction, were taking away 
my heart, I was affrighted back by my anxiety 
and fear. When I was not smitten with the rod 
of correction, I saw again and again the uplifted 
hand ; the sight of which reminded me of my 
sins, and made me earnestly long to be a par- 
taker of the holiness of God. 

But my social discipline was not confined to 
anxieties and fears. I was required to watch 
the sick bed of wife and children ; sometimes 
held in the most anxious suspense, whether life 
or death would be the issue ; sometimes feeling 
the most distressing certainty of coming calamity. 
I was compelled to resign the dearest and the 
best to Him who gave them ; and to feel bereav- 
ed and alone. Still, I knew I was undergoing 
a discipline for heaven ; that a Father's hand 
was leading me on in a pilgrimage to glory. I 
learned, in the bitterness of my social anxieties 
and sorrows, still more tenderly to bewail my 
sins, to humble myself before God, and to 
cleave to Him as my everlasting portion. As I 



120 THE TELESCOPE. 

felt His sacred influence on my recovered soul, 
sorrow gave place to joy, and I was enabled to 
say, amidst the most tender recollections, " The 
Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, bless- 
ed be the name of the Lord." My tribulation 
wrought patience and experience, and a hope 
that never made me ashamed. 

Yet my severest trials were those which I 
brought directly upon myself. I desired con- 
formity to God ; I sought to be transformed into 
his image ; to do all his will ; but in the hour 
of temptation, how often did I fail; blinding my 
own eyes, forgetting my own vows, forsaking 
God my helper, and leaving my bosom so far the 
seat of evil passions, that I became like a trou- 
bled sea, when it cannot rest ; tossed by the 
winds of pride, and lust, and anger, and discon- 
tent, which at sometimes I thought had given 
place forever to the gentle breathings of the 
Holy Spirit. Then it would seem that sin had 
regained all its power, and that the severest 
struggles were in vain. What bitterness did I 
suffer in those hours of trial, from the reluc- 
tance of my sinful mind to bear the cross which 
I had made for myself, and from the fear that I 
should deny my Lord, and bring upon myself 



THE TELESCOPE. 121 

swift destruction ! Often, I seemed to stand on 
the very verge of ruin ; to be just ready to seal 
my character in hopeless sinfulness. But thanks 
be to my Redeemer that he prayed for me, that 
my faith should not fail ; that I was enabled to 
lift my heart to the Prince and Saviour, and to 
cry, " Help, Lord, for my foot slippeth." At the 
moment when I was ready to fall, I found the 
everlasting arms around me, holding me fast 
upon the rock of salvation ; and higher raised 
towards its heavenly summit. Then the lan- 
guage of mercy to the church seemed as if spok- 
en in soft accents to my ear. "In a little wrath 
I hid my face from thee for a moment, but with 
everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, 
saith the Lord my Redeemer. " 

But success, even victories renewed again and 
again, exposed and hindered me. As I gained 
fresh triumphs, I was "exalted above measure." 
I lost sight of the weakness and sinfulness of my 
heart. I trusted in myself, and became again 
under the power of sin, until the Spirit set my 
sins in order before me ; often, until He who 
led me through great tribulation, startled me by 
some alarm, blasted some high hope, or with- 
drew some idolized blessing, and I learned 



122 THE TELESCOPE. 

again that I was a worm and no man ; that I had 
no skill in the heavenly warfare, and no hope 
of success in my conflict with inward corruption, 
but in the aid of my all-sufficient Redeemer. 
Then, I did not count myself to have apprehend- 
ed, but " forgetting those things which are be- 
hind, and reaching forth unto those which were 
before, I pressed towards the mark for the prize 
of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus my 
Lord." 

Often, I thought that the last conflict was at 
hand. Often, did my guide and friend show be- 
fore me the prospect of death, preparatory to 
that trying event. I needed, often to stand on 
the border of' eternity, to convince me how 
naked, and poor, and blind, and miserable I 
was. Sometimes my pride and self-sufficiency 
were blasted in a moment. I heard, or thought 
I heard, " Thou fool, this night thy life will be 
required." Then the .brightest visions of my 
tempted fancy vanished as a dream. 

Yet I knew the voice to be of warning, and not 
of judgment; the voice of conscience, and of the 
striving and quickening Spirit, whom I had griev- 
ed from my bosom. Thus was I restored, and 
with a fearful, trembling heart, came back from the 



THE TELESCOPE. 123 

shades of death, to walk before God in the light 
of the living ; trusting in Almighty aid ; strong 
in my weakness ; and finding his grace sufficient 
for me. Oh how sweetly did I live, as I sung, 
in my soul, " The Lord preserveth the simple ; 
I was brought low and he helped me. Return 
unto thy rest, oh my soul, for the Lord hath 
dealt bountifully with thee. I will walk before 
the Lord in the land of the living." Then the 
victory seemed to be won, and the last trial past ; 
and I enjoyed such fellowship with God, that I 
seemed almost a possessor of the promised glory. 
Yet again and again I forsook my rock and 
my refuge, and vainly gloried in myself; and 
again and again was driven back by the rod of 
my heavenly Father. How often did I hear the 
soft and cheering whisper to my soul, " I have 
chosen thee in the furnace of affliction. I have 
tried thee, and thou shalt come forth as gold." 
Each suffering had its kind design ; each made 
me more than before a partaker of his holiness ; 
and darkened as my path often seemed, chang- 
ing as was the light I saw, and wayward as I 
was, I was led onward in a path " shining 
brighter and brighter to the perfect day." 



124 THE TELESCOPE. 

Yet there was another tribulation needful, so 
deep, so growing, so enduring, as to throw the 
past into oblivion. Amidst life's uncertainties, 
it was so probable it would never come, that I 
thought to pass into rest without its darkness and 
horrors. But he who knew my heart, appointed 
for my profit the lengthened discipline of weak, 
fearful old age. I trembled as I felt its gradual 
approach, lest I should fail in the last long trial ; 
lest I should be consumed in the last heat of the 
furnace of affliction. 

At length the days came in which I had no 
pleasure. I would have used my limbs, but they 
refused to support my frame, and seemed to have 
no other use but as the seats of pain. I would 
have looked out at the windows of my soul, 
but all was dark. I would have listened to the 
daughters of music, but the sweetest harmonies 
were lost upon my ear. I was afraid of that 
which was high ; the. almond tree flourished on 
my head ; the grasshopper was a burden, and 
desire failed. 1 looked forward without hope; 
and could see nothing in my worldly prospect, 
but man going to his long home, and the mourn- 
ers going about the streets. Soon, said I, the 
silver cord will be loosed ; the golden bowl will 



THE TELESCOPE. 125 

be broken; the dust will return to the earth, as 
it was, and the spirit unto God who gave it. 

1 had never before seen days in which there 
was no pleasure. I was never before so naked, 
helpless, and forlorn. Man could not help me. 
The kindest children could not give me the suc- 
cor which I needed. Wealth could not buy 
what my desolate state required. I was blessed 
with comfortable abode, with kind attendants, 
with abundant supplies. I could have pampered 
an epicurean's appetite ; but I had no desire for 
food. I could have clothed richly my withered 
and aching limbs, and laid my body on a bed of 
down ; but I could not ease my pains, or rest 
my limbs, or quiet my trembling mind. After 
all my trials, I was unprepared for this ; for 
these days of darkness, and gloom, and suffer- 
ing, and hopelessness. I felt the risings of im- 
patience ; and even the terrors of unbelief. I 
felt that pride and self-confidence had mingled 
with my former peace and joy. I trembled, lest 
after all, I should be filled with my own devices, 
and perish helpless and alone ! But oh, how 
short was the fear, repeated though it was, again 
and again. Fori remembered the word, "As 
thy day is, so shalt thy strength be." " And 
11 



126 THE TELESCOPE. 

even to your old age, I am He ; and even to hoar 
hairs, I will carry you ; I have made, and I will 
bear; even I, will carry and will deliver you." 
I cried out amidst the gloom, when it thickened 
around me, "Oh, Lord, thou art my guide from 
my youth ; forsake me not when my strength 
faileth ; cast me not off in the time of old age- 
Now when I am old and grey headed, oh God, 
forsake me not until I have showed thy strength 
unto this generation, and thy righteousness unto 
every one that is to come." I was sure that he 
heard my prayer ; and that underneath were the 
everlasting arms. Out of weakness, I was made 
strong ; as my outward man was perishing, my 
inward man was renewed day by day. I could 
hear in the inmost recesses of my soul the pro- 
mises of my Redeemer ; I could see Him inter- 
ceding for me at the right hand of God ; I could 
remember all the path of loving kindness from 
my youth. As I looked out of the windows, it 
was dark ; but as I looked upon Jesus, it was 
light ; and I felt myself more rapidly than before 
changing into his image, from glory to glory ; 
and I could see nearer and still nearer, the city 
which hath no need of the sun, or of the moon, 
because the Lamb was the light thereof. 



THE TELESCOPE. 127 

At length the last trial came. I had passed 
fourscore years, and felt that the hour feared 
•and longed for had arrived. I had learned the 
deceitfulness and wickedness of my heart. As I 
fixed my dying eyes on the infinitely pure, I 
was overcome with a sense of unworthiness. An 
awful foreboding came over me. that sin so obsti- 
nate might never be removed. For a moment 
I was tempted to despair. At that moment I 
cried anew, " Lord, to whom shall I go, thou hast 
the words of eternal life ? Lord, save me, or I 
perish." I had not reached that certainty of 
my salvation which I once expected ; but I had 
tried the Saviour so often, that I believed he 
would not now turn away my prayer, nor his 
mercy from me. As the last crisis came, all the 
events of my life were clustered before me ; I 
was encouraged by all my former victories. All 
my resolutions revived, and were united in one 
act of universal consecration to God. All my 
prayers seemed concentrated in one act of faith. 
I prayed for a victory over sin with unutterable 
"groanings," and seemed to gain within my soul, 
the strength of the Almighty ; as I beheld with 
unclouded eye, the Lord, my righteousness and 



128 THE TELESCOPE. 

strength. I cried with a faith which I felt to be 
absorbing, "Lord Jesus, receive ray spirit." 

I knew not death. I felt merely transforma- 
tion, and complete resemblance to my Lord. 
I was guided and borne by the angels. As I 
arose, I forgot the tribulations and the withered 
body from which I was released ; I was so rav- 
ished with the pleasures of unsullied holiness, 
with the transforming face of God, and with the 
holy society of angels, and the just made perfect. 
I was bemoaned, and buried, and given up to 
worms, before recollection came in as the hand- 
maid of my joy. Then I remembered the path 
of tribulation which led me to my rest ; how, 
amidst my sorrows, I saw the Lamb of God who 
came to take away the sins of the world ; how, 
out of the depths, I cried unto the Lord, until I 
could say, "There is forgiveness with thee that 
thou mayest be feared ;" — until by faith in Him, 
I was turned from darkness unto light, and from 
the power of satan unto God ; — until at length my 
purified spirit parted from its earthly tabernacle, 
and rose triumphant to its house not made with 
hands, eternal in the heavens. 

At length the period came for the Redeemer's 
kingdom to be closed. I was summoned to 



THE TELESCOPE. 129 

judgment — I descended fearless to the earth, the 
scene of my dangers and my victories. The 
trumpet sounded, and in a moment I found my- 
self the tenant of a body — how like, and yet how 
unlike that which had been sown in corruption. 
I saw the lands of my nativity ; the hill top 
where I had often gone to the burial of kindred 
and neighbors ; the hills and valleys remain- 
ing as in the days of my childhood. I rose 
from the fields where I was sown in corrup- 
tion. There my corruptible put on incorrup- 
tion, and my mortal put on immortality. I 
ascended in the air, with inconceivable swift- 
ness ; yet soaring without a struggle, and seem- 
ing to have passed thousands of miles in an in- 
stant, I was at the right hand of my Judge. I 
saw his benign countenance, like the sun shining 
in his strength ; and yet as softened in the light 
which he shed upon the redeemed, as " the bright 
and morning star." As I looked, the remem- 
brance of passed sins came over me almost to 
overwhelming ; and yet I was most happy in 
a sweet and calm conviction of un worthiness, 
while his light shone into all the once darkened 
corners of my soul. As I looked upon my Re- 
11* 



130 THE TELESCOPE. 

deemer and Judge, I felt assured that darkness 
and night would be no more. 

I heard the invitation to my final rest. I 
had forgotten, as I heard them recalled, the ser- 
vices which I had rendered to my Lord. But 
He had preserved the record ; and when our 
humbled minds failed to remember as services, 
what we had done amidst temptations and sins, 
He bade us look upon the redeemed. I had not 
noted till then, the scene around me. We 
seemed in open space, suspended in the regions 
of immensity ; innumerable, shining in glorious 
bodies, like unto that glorious sun, upon which 
our whole attention had been fixed. No earthly 
beauty could be remembered comparable to this. 
Though we could see that some in childhood — 
some in youth — some at maturity, and some 
in old age, had been laid in the grave. All 
were beautiful ; all were diverse ; and there were 
countless gradations, as one star dirTereth from 
another star in glory. At the Saviour's bidding, 
I looked for the witnesses that I had ministered 
unto Him. I could recal the earthly looks of 
the glorified around me ; visible through the 
splendors of their immortal bodies. I remem- 
bered, without confusion, and with perfect ease, 



THE TELESCOPE. 131 

the day, and the hour, and the place, where 
amidst sin and shame I met and aided them 
on earth. The board where the hungry was 
fed ; the cup of water which I had given to the 
thirsty; the sick man's bed, and the captive's 
prison, were instantly before my imagination : 
with other forms of human wo, which, as a suf- 
ferer myself, I had learned to pity ; and though 
a sufferer, had been able to relieve : above all, 
many whom I had warned of their spiritual dan- 
gers, and whose spiritual burdens I had been 
able to bear. The services, which I recal- 
led, had been so mixed with sin, as to be remem- 
bered only amidst the tears of repentance ; but 
then, I saw how my momentary and imperfect 
kindnesses had been blessed in comforting the 
afflicted ; in cheering the Christian on his way ; 
or in softening the stony heart, and bringing it 
to the Saviour. 

One, I saw, whose case broke upon me with 
a sudden overpowering. We had met as happy 
spirits disembodied ; but had not recognised 
each other ; for I met him whom I knew as a 
youth, with all the marks of aged saintship. But 
now — when each had recovered in the form of 
glory, his earthly body, from which not eternity 



132 THfc TELESCOPE. 

can remove its distinguishing appearance — 
making heaven as various as beautiful — I turned, 
and his eye caught mine. It seemed kindled with 
the same fire, as when I saw T his first espousals 
to Christ, only purer and lovelier. I had found 
him going astray from the instructions which 
his dying parents had left him. I warned, I 
besought in vain. He sickened, and I visited 
him — not knowing him yet as one of the Re- 
deemer's brethren. I helped his feeble mind to 
reflect — his weak memory to recal the teach- 
ing of his tender mother. I watered his couch 
with my tears — his heart melted— his conscience 
awoke — his vows were made, and his anxious, 
trembling prayer was offered up, "God be merci- 
ful to me a sinner." I led him to Jesus ; half 
doubting the while, whether I knew the way 
myself. I saw the commencement of his course, 
and we parted, and met not for years before I 
was called from the earth. When I knew him 
again, it w 7 as in his incorruptible body, on the 
morning of the resurrection. The Saviour seem- 
ed pointing to him, and saying, "inasmuch as 
thou didst it unto him, thou didst it unto me." 
I turned again, and saw father, and mother, and 
son, and daughter, and neighbor, and friend, 



THE TELESCOPE. 133 

and many a stranger, too, who in all my sorrows 
and sins, were the Saviour's ministers unto me ; 
and who now received their reward, as if they 
had done their various service unto Him. Then, 
confused views rose upon my eye, since becom- 
ing more and more distinct and glorious, of the 
feeble kindness of such a worm as I, spreading 
its saving influence over the wide world, and 
descending down through many generations, 
and giving me a part in the joy of millions and 
millions, standing at the right hand of the Re- 
deemer, and called [lis brethren. Then, I could 
see all the streams of human kindness, bearing 
the love of God to the heart of man, descending 
and widening through all time, and uniting the 
redeemed throng with charity, the bond of per- 
fectness. Then, I beheld, as in every face, the 
sweet expression of gratitude for mutual kindness, 
mingled with silent praise, to the infinite Re- 
deemer, through the innumerable throng, and 
earth's little moments seemed to be the fountain 
of a peaceful eternity, flowing from never 
failing charity. 

We rose together, obedient to the word, "Come, 
ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom 
prepared for you from the foundation of the 



134 THE TELESCOPE. 

world. " We rose as a cloud, not tempest driven, 
but as we had seen on earth the clouds of 
the morning borne by the gentle breeze, and 
gilded by the rays of the morning sun, until we 
arrived at the city which " hath no need of the 
sun, neither of the moon to shine, for the glory 
of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the 
light thereof; and the nations of them that are 
saved, walk in the light of it ; and the kings 
of the earth bring their glory and their honor 
into it." 

Death was swallowed up in victory. It seem- 
ed so as I rose triumphant, a redeemed and 
holy spirit, after the last earthly struggle, when 
I left my worn-out body on the death-bed. It 
was then a glorious triumph ; for while my body 
was given to the worms and wasted into dust, I 
was still with the God of my living spirit ; happy, 
without hindrance or defect. But my happiness 
was not complete until' the resurrection; when 
resuming my body, which I used to find the 
occasion of sin, that it mi^ht be the means of 
holiness, I found it a temple of holiness and 
joy. My senses became so many aids to the 
knowledge of God. When corruption put on 
incorruption, and mortal put on immortality, 



THE TELESCOPE. 135 

and death was swallowed up in victory, oh what 
new glories burst upon our sight, so large as to in- 
vite our diligence forever What new harmonies 
broke upon our ears, and dwelt upon our tongues, 
as we learned more and more to turn our know- 
ledge into praise. 

As we entered, new arrived, hosts of angels 
burst forth in universal acclamation; "O death 
where is thy sting ! oh grave where is thy vic- 
tory ! " Ten thousand times ten thousand, mul- 
titudes innumerable, replied in chorus — Thanks 
be to God which givtth us the victory through 
our Lord Jesus Christ I 

Through much tribulation, I have entered into 
rest, and my robes have been washed white in 
the blood of the Lamb, and I am before the 
throne of God, and serve him day and night in 
his temple, and he that sitteth on the throne 
dwelleth with me. I hunger no more, neither 
thirst any more, neither doth the sun light on 
me, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in 
the midst of the throne, feedeth me, and leadeth 
me unto living fountains of waters, and God 
has wiped away all tears from my eyes. I am 
changed into his image. My bosom is like 
crystal, reflecting the perfect image of the sun. 



136 THE TELESCOPE. 

I retain my individuality, and hold in perfect 
remembrance, all the path of tribulation, which 
led me hither ; and yet, as I look upon the Lord 
God, and reflect the beams of His glory, I feel 
that I am one with Him. 

I am still his servant ; not permitted, not de- 
siring to be an idle partaker of his happiness. 
I serve Him day and night, if earthly mea- 
sure be taken to express my unceasing dili- 
gence ; but I am never weary. My employ- 
ments are my refreshment—while I toil, 1 rest, 
I am progressive. Hitherto I have no measure 
of duration, but the improvement of my facul- 
ties — higher happiness — greater knowledge, and 
increased resemblance to my God. I desire no 
other measure. I think of improvement, but not 
of time. I am wiser, holier, happier than I was. 
I shall be wiser, holier, happier than I now am. 
What other measure can I desire ? It is enough 
that my progress has no boundary. 

I could be happy if I were alone, reflecting 
the glorious image of my God. Yet it befits my 
nature more, to unite with other spirits in love, 
service, adoration and praise. My capaci- 
ties of happiness seem now, as if multiplied by 
all the myriads of heaven. I feel so one with 



THE TELESCOPE. 137 

the countless hosts of the Redeemed, and even 
with other hosts of happy spirits, that the happi- 
ness of all seems as if poured into my single 
bosom, while we sing ; blessing, and honor, 

AND GLORY, AND POWER, BE UNTO HlM THAT 
SITTETH ON THE THRONE, AND TO THE LAMB 
FOREVER ! 



12 



LONDON ; 

A RETROSPECT OF THE BRITISH AND FOREIGN 

BIBLE SOCIETY. MAY 1, 1816. 

At the anniversary of May 1, 18 J 6, the Bri- 
tish and foreign bible society shone forth in 
meridian glory. Then, the mists and clouds 
which obscured its rise and progress, seemed 
completely dispersed — dissolved in a serener 
air — distilled in dews, and dropped down in 
rain upon the earth, warmed and thriving in its 
beams. The storms and tempests which had 
been gathered over Europe, had cleared away — 
leaving the lands from which the Bible had been 
either withheld or discarded, watered and open 
to its rays. The more distant nations, clouded 
beneath their own dark exhalations, saw in that 
mid-day glory, a light piercing their gloom. No 
people was hidden from the heat thereof. 



THE TELESCOPE. 139 

I entered the hall at great Queen-street, at 10 
o'clock ; and sat partly in meditation, and partly 
in that Christian fellowship, which the occasion 
produced, until the hour appointed for the annual 
solemnities : joining in the burst of welcome, 
with which again and again, the more illustrious 
friends of the Bible were greeted. At twelve, 
the President, Lord Teignmouth, as humble as 
honored in that exaltation, opened the meeting, 
which I have ventured to characterize as the 

MERIDIAN Of the BRITISH AND FOREIGN BIBLE 

society. At that moment, the sun shining from 
its mid-day height, poured its rays over the 
habitable world ! Shedding the light of day over 
both continents — it cheered the western coast 
of America with the rising glories of the morn- 
ing, and lingered in the evening twilight on the 
islands of Japan ; thus designating LONDON 
as the moral centre of light to the world. Even 
so the bible society, having emerged from the 
night of modern infidelity, pursued its course 
amidst the mists and clouds of the morning, and 
darkened by lowering and roaring tempests, over 
all the sky, until that day shone forth over the 
whole earth ! At that moment, America was 
collecting her scattered rays into one great beam 



140 THE TELESCOPE. 

of light, sufficient to cover with glory the whole 
western hemisphere. Russia, and her northern 
and southern neighbors, seemed suddenly open- 
ed to the whole light of day ; while it was seen 
gleaming far on distant Africa, and Asia, and the 
islands of the sea. There was no speech nor lan- 
guage where the voice was not heard. The sym- 
bol retired ; and day and night, and night and 
day have succeeded each other, for half a gene- 
ration, yet daily renewing at noon, the symbol of 
the meridian glory of the British and Foreign 
Bible Society : still shining, London, over thee, 
and flowing in streams of mercy over the whole 
earth. 

The condition of the world at the anniversary 
of 1816, was remarkably suited to fix it as the 
meridian era of the British and Foreign Bible 
Society ; a condition more striking to the writer, 
because it had burst upon him suddenly with a 
noon-day glory. The events of the spring and 
summer of 1815, which brought the infidel 
drama to its close, and exalted the British and 
Foreign Bible Society to be the light of the 
world, broke upon him with an effect which they 
can scarce imagine, who received the successive 
items of intelligence by every new arrival from 



THE TELESCOPE. 141 

abroad. He had left the coast of Malabar in 
the month of October, just on the news of Napo- 
leon's escape from Elba, arrival at Paris, and his 
rallying the armies of France against combined 
Europe ; ready to embroil the world in the hor- 
rors of protracted war. In this state of suspense, 
when the conqueror was on the wing, the writer 
embarked for Great Britain, and remained igno- 
rant of subsequent events until the middle of 
December, and within a few day's sail of the 
island of St. Helena. The reader may imagine 
with what interest we saw on the verge of the 
horizon, a ship, appearing now, not merely to 
break the solitude in which for weeks we had 
traversed the ocean, but to inform us of the fates 
of men, at one of the most remarkable crises of 
human history. He cannot imagine the effect 
upon our minds, when we received at once the 
detail of events, the battle of Waterloo, the fall 
of Napoleon, the pacification of Europe, and the 
imprisonment of the conqueror of the world, 
on that rock in the ocean to which we were has- 
tening our way. A few day's sail brought us, 
with unimpaired interest, to the prison, where, 
as now appears, Napoleon was sent to die, by 
htm who taketh the wise in their own craftiness, 
12* 



142 THE TELESCOPE. 

and subdueth the mighty by their own weapons. 
Even there, in the midst of the ocean, far from 
the Christian world, the mind was overcome, as 
that towering rock loomed higher and higher in 
the prospect, with the thought of Him who had 
judged among the nations and rebuked many 
people, that at length they might beat their 
swords into ploughshares, and their spears into 
pruning hooks, and learn war no more ; and 
wrapt into the sympathy of the instructed nations, 
we seemed to hear and return the appropriate 
exhortation of that wonderful period, "Come ye 
and let us walk in the light of the Lord." 

On arriving in London, the last of February, 
1816, the impression was deepened. The most 
striking wonders of that wonderful metropolis, 
were now the trophies of victory, turned into 
ensigns of peace among contending nations. 
The armor, the weapons, the chariot, the horses, 
the travelling bed and furniture, the varied re- 
galia of him who had wasted Europe ; were the 
objects of universal curiosity and admiration. 
The battle of Waterloo, itself, was made to pass 
in review,* before the tens of thousands of all 
nations, as if it were to be gazed at, as the last 

# Referring to the Panorama view exhibited in Lincolns-Inn- 
Fields. 



THE TELESCOPE. 143 

specimen of man butchering man on the tented 
field ; the last sight of blood and battle, on which 
repentant man would fix his eye. There seem- 
ed at least such a pause in the conflicts of man, 
as at the birth of the Prince of Peace, when the 
temple of Janus was shut, and the nations were 
at rest ; now so much the more promising, be- 
cause contending nations acknowledged Him as 
Lord, and were open to receive the convert- 
ing word. 

In the midst of these ensigns of returned 
peace, the spring of 1816, came clustered with 
its joyous anniversaries ; succeeding each other 
through the month of April : all covered with 
new lustre by the glories of the times, and all 
under the golden motto, repeated by one of the 
most eloquent orators in those brilliant assem- 
blies ; AMICITI^ SEMP1TERN.E LET FRIENDSHIP 

reign forever.* At length, May-day came, 
illustrious in the meridian glory of the British 
and Foreign Bible Society, casting its light over 
the whole earth. On that blessed day, faith 
seemed to see throngs of pacific angels hover- 
ing over the metropolis of all nations, havino- 
the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that 

* Rev. Mr. Bunting, of the Methodist Church. 



144 THE TELESCOPE. 

dwell on the earth, and to every kindred, and 
tongue, and people ; and to hear, instead of the 
noise of battle, soft harmonies of songsters in- 
numerable, " Glory to God in the highest, 

ON EARTH PEACE AND GOOD WILL TO MEN." 

It is impossible to make this retrospect upon 
London, as the centre of moral light to the world, 
without reflecting upon its original darkness ; as 
sitting in its ancient shadow of death. How has 
the land of deepest gloom come at length to shed 
the noon-day light upon the world ! When our 
Lord commanded his disciples, "Go ye into all 
the world, and preach the gospel to every crea- 
ture," London, now radiant with the word of 
God, signalized its May-day, by the Bealan fires, 
fearfully glaring over every town and village of 
Britain, Ireland, and even Gaul, between which, 
beasts and men ready to be sacrificed were com- 
pelled to pass. Mid-summer, too, was sacred to 
Belinus ; and honored with the most splendid 
pageantry, " When the sun enters into Cancer," 
says Quintus, in his letter to his brother, M. T. 
Cicero, " it is the greatest festival of the god ; 
and on all high mountains and eminences of the 
country, they light fires at the approach of that 
day, and make their wives, their children, and 



THE TELESCOPE. 145 

their cattle, to pass through the fire, or to pre- 
sent themselves before the fire in honor of the 
deity. Deep and profound is the silence of the 
multitude during this ceremony, until the ap- 
pearance of the sun above the horizon, when 
with loud and continued exultations and songs 
of joy, they hail the utmost exaltation of that 
luminary, as the supreme triumph of the symbol 
of the god of their adoration." On the eve of 
the first of November, a more striking act of 
reverence was paid. Over all Britain, the fires 
in every house were extinguished ; and every 
master of a family, sought the prosperity of the 
following year, by bringing home to his domestic 
hearth the consecrated fire ! Bless the Lord, 
London, that the adored sun has become the 
symbol of that light which has arisen over thee, 
and pours its healing beams over the whole 
earth ! 

How slow the rising of that light ! How little 
welcomed were those healing and reviving beams ! 
In times unknown, the word of life found its 
uncheered way among the untutored Britons ; 
yet forced to hide itself on the heights and in 
the depths of the mountains of Cornwall and 
Wales. Then we see Gregory sending the 



146 THE TELESCOPE. 

heralds of the cross, that he might prepare these 
Angles, to be angels ; and the gospel welcomed 
through all the Saxon kingdoms. Then, again, 
we see Egbert translating the gospel, and vener- 
able Bede giving his countrymen the Bible and 
dying with the words of faith on his lips, "I 
will go to him from the flesh who formed me out 
of nothing ; my soul desires to see Christ my 
King in his beauty:' 5 and Alfred, too, that 
wise and Christian king, preparing the laws and 
diffusing the holy light under which England is 
blessed after near a thousand years ! Yet as we 
look again, Britain is seen worshipping sun, and 
moon, and fountains, and rivers, and trees,* and 
amidst its later darkness, him who seated in the 
temple of God, shut up the Bible from the eyes 
of men. 

Amidst the gloom, the light was not extin- 
guished. Through the distance of five hundred 
years, WicklirTe rises on our view, offering to his 
dark countrymen the light of life ; and for so 
great a crime, dug from the grave, burned to 
ashes and scattered in the river ; yet followed 
by Lord Cobham, a martyr to his zeal, hung in 
chains for spreading the knowledge of the Bible. 

* In the 1 1th century, Canute forbade this worship by law. 



THE TELESCOPE. 147 

But see ! a distant light breaking over Europe ! 
The chain of superstition, rusted and worn in 
ten thousand links, suddenly bursts at the stroke 
of the monk of Wittemberg ; and England and 
her sister nations hasten to be free. Yet half 
Europe rivets again her iron bondage, and dark- 
ens her windows, to the spreading light. Even 
England doubts and hesitates, whether to come 
forth into the freedom and glory of the gospel. 
Now, she unfolds the word ; now, she closes it 
and seals its hidden contents in the blood of her 
sons ; and the prison, and the axe, and the stake 
join their cruel hands to drive the Bible from 
the shores of England. And when these did 
not avail, the council of the church and the 
power of foreign states covered the seas with the 
invincible armada, to destroy the friends of 
light, and cover England again with darkness 
and the shadow of death. Then treachery laid 
its train and prepared its secret thunders, that 
one instant might blast forever all the hopes 
and joys of England. Yet no weapon prospered 
against the word of God. The Spanish host was 
wasted by the tempest ; and the gunpowder plot 
defeated by the misgivings of cruelty. "The 
bright occidental star," had not long set, when 



148 THE TELESCOPE. 

the morning star arose in the publication of the 
authorized version, which by means of the Bible 
Society covers all who speak the English tongue 

with light Yet look again — reluctant 

England did not even then welcome the healing 
and reviving light; was not then ready to be its 
almoner to all nations. Scarce was the victory 
gained over cruel superstition, when studious 
and crafty philosophy prepared most skilfully 
its glittering weapons for a warfare against the 
Bible. 

Now, it pretended that human reason was too 
skilful in reading the book of nature to need the 
book of revelation, and now declared it impossi- 
ble for God to confirm a message to mankind. 
Now, it could see no testimonies of history to 
establish the records of the Bible ; and now 
blinded its eyes to rites and customs of Jews 
and Christians, which no wit could explain if 
those records were false. Now, it plunged into 
the archives of eastern nations, and came back 
from their hidden depths with dates and dynas- 
ties which put all scripture history to shame ; 
and now dug through crust after crust around 
the crater of the volcano, until it exulted in the 
discovery of an under-soil, far older than- that 



THE TELESCOPE. 14y 

which arose out of chaos on the morning of crea- 
tion. Oh, Britain, what a guilty part had thy 
sons, in the infidelity of Europe ; in the vain 
attempt to quench the light of life, and cover 
the earth with darkness ! Thy profound philo- 
sophers — thy sagacious historians — thy enterpris- 
ing travellers ; what pains did they take to stop 
the dawning day — the rising sun ! Miserable 
men ; monuments of folly, amidst your boasts of 
wisdom ! How hopeless was your task, to stop 
his giant course ! As ye wrought your little 
night, and involved yourselves, and your disci- 
ples, in a chosen darkness ; little did ye think, 
how soon the word of God would arise in glory, 
over London, Britain, and the world. Lit- 
tle did ye think, as ye welcomed the skirts of 
the gathering clouds, how soon the tempest of 
infidelity would burst, and leave all Europe and 
the world, sitting in the clear light of day ! Lit- 
tle did ye think, that when ye were laid in the 
darkness of your faithless graves, a light would 
break forth, which would disperse the fictions 
of your toil ; and even quench the lights, which 
the advocates of the Bible had set on high amidst 
the gloom of infidelity. Little did ye think, 
while ye dreamed of darkness, and clouds, and 
13 



150 THE TELESCOPE. 

gloom, about to overshadow your European par- 
adise, a light would issue from the kraals of the 
Hottentots — from the dark isles of the Pacific, 
so bright as to cover all Europe, and the world 
with light. Little thought ye, that from the fan- 
cied midnight in which ye were covering your 
own native isle, a light would break forth from 
ignorance and want, which would cheer the 
Bible onward to its meridian glory ; that the cry 
give us the bible, from the mountains of Wales, 
would rally its friends to the work of spreading 
it abroad over all nations ; and that amidst the 
boasts of victory and the wailings of your defeat, 
it would shine forth as the sun in meridian glory 
over London and the world. 

It was thus, that we saw London, May-day, 
1816, the centre of a world at rest, and sat down 
amidst assembled throngs, to rejoice in the tri- 
umph of the word of God. The scene returns 
again as we write, radiant with its former splen- 
dor ; and London is before us, as we saw it 
in those gala days of Europe, or as on that 
May-day, basking in the light. As the vi- 
sion returns, the wonders of that wonderful 
metropolis, borrow their interest from their re- 
lations to the remembered and growing glory. 



THE TELESCOPE. 151 

We revisit the tower, and seem to hear the 
splash of the oars which bear a lover of the Bible 
to its silent chambers ; and from those silent 
chambers, to his last sufferings, and testimony ; 
we listen to his prayers ; we see his blood, as seeds 
of increase to the word of God. Or amidst the 
trophies of ancient victory over the foes of the 
Bible — the relics of the invincible armada — in- 
struments of torture for the protestants of Eng- 
land, we pause to read the inscription, unwritten, 
yet glowing in fancy's eye, "No weapon formed 
against thee shall prosper." Or surveying the 
pageant kings of many generations, in their 
mute parade ;* the Williams, Edwards, Henrys, 
Charleses, Jameses, Georges ; we listen to their 
silent eloquence, "All the glory of man is as the 

flower of grass But the word of 

the Lord endureth forever." We 

retrace the sepulchral courts of Westminster 
Abbey ; the mausoleum of the gifted and honor- 
ed dead ; but it is only to ask, amidst the glory 
in which ye lived and died, did ye give heed to 
the sure word of prophecy, and follow its dawn- 
ing and increasing light, until ye were led to 

# In effigy, in armor, and on horse-back. 



152 THE TELESCOPE. 

the realms of eternal glory, in which your earth- 
ly fame is all forgotten ; and even now, are ye 
bending from your thrones, with bursts of joy, as 
ye see the w ord of God triumphant. We see 
again, St. Paul's, rearing its emblematic ball 
and cross ; now, symbols of the sun of righteous- 
ness, arisen on high, over London and the 
world.* As we enter that magnificent edifice, 
we forget again its architectural grandeur, lost 
in the moral sublimity of the Apostle of human- 
ity, standing in marble before us ! The out- 
stretched arm, extending the key, to unlock the 
prison door — the intrepid step — the fearless look, 
softened into the sweetness and gentleness of an 
angel of mercy, mark the immortal Howard ; — 
the harbinger of the age of the spread of the 
gospel : showing with what energy, and courage, 
and kindness, the next generation must go forth, 
proclaiming the acceptable year of the Lord : — 
healing the broken hearted — preaching deliver- 
ance to the captives, and opening the prison to 
them that are bound. We reascend, that lofty 

* The symbol, and the name of that splendid cathedral, may 
be said lo have been welcomed by the See of London, when 
the excellent Bishop Porleus, led the way of the English Bishops 
in the patronage of the British and Foreign Bible Society. 



THE TELESCOPE. 153 

tower, and see again, London, itself a world ! 
sitting beside its liquid pathway ; long the track 
of commerce and of war : now, how remarkably 
of the word of God ; bordered by her surround- 
ing villages, in all the beauty of green England; 
and to fancy's eye, by the growing glories of the 
summer, over all the fertile lands of Britain ; the 
memorial of that prophecy which closed the re- 
port of 1816 :— 

So SHALL MY WORD BE, THAT GOETH FORTH 
OUT OF MY MOUTH ; IT SHALL NOT RETURN 
UNTO ME VOID, BUT IT SHALL ACCOMPLISH THAT 
WHICH I PLEASE, AND IT SHALL PROSPER IN 
THAT WHERETO I SENT IT. 

It was not England alone, which was con- 
cerned in the anniversary of 1816 All 

Europe seemed that day, to have trodden back 
her wandering paths of infidelity, and to have 
come to do homage to the Bible, and to God. 
Europe, for her pride and her atheism, had been 
cut down to the stump, until three times sevea 
times, had passed over her. She had been cast 
out, desolate and forlorn, forsaken of her reject- 
ed God and Saviour, until chastened by her 
sufferings and disgusted with her pride, she came 
back, acknowledging the Author of the Bible 
13* 



154 THE TELESCOPE. 

as the most high God ; before whom all the 
inhabitants of the earth are reputed as nothing : 
who doeth according to his will, in the armies 
of heaven ; and among the inhabitants of the 
earth. Did we not see Europe, that day, w T ith 
her reason restored — her honor and brightness 
returned — honoring and extolling the King of 
Heaven, all whose works are truth, and his ways 
judgment — and those who walk in pride, he is 
able to abase ? Did we not hear the decree 
unto all people, nations, and languages : How 
great are his signs, and how mighty are his 
wonders. His kingdom is an everlasting king- 
dom, and his dominion is from generation to 
generation ! 

The Chancellor of the British Exchequer, may 
be said to have been the HERALD of smitten 
and returning Europe, when he announced to 
the British and Foreign Bible Society on its first 
succeeding anniversary, the two-fold work of the 
sovereigns of Europe and their people, — the 

HOLY ALLIANCE, and the PATRONAGE OF THE 

Bible Societies, by the Emperor Alexander, 
and the associate kings. The holy alliance 
was signed at Paris, September 26, 1815 ; and 
significantly published at St. Petersburg, Dec. 



THE TELESCOPE 155 

25th ; " the day of the birth of our Saviour :" 
having received, meanwhile, the accession of 
Holland, and the informal, but " entire concur- 
rence," of the Prince Regent of Great Britain. 
Its terms were most striking, when considered 
as issuing from Paris ; so lately the metropolis 
of atheism and deism. The three powers 
take for their sole guide, the precepts 
which the holy religion of our saviour 
teaches. They declare that there is no 
other Sovereign than Him, to whom alone 
power really belongs, our divine saviour, 
the word of the most hlgh, the word of 
life. Thus failed the watch-word of Voltaire, 
ecrasez Vinfame, crush the wretch ! Thus end- 
ed the decree at Paris, 1793, which abolished 
the gospel ! Thus ended the law and the in- 
scription, THERE IS NO GoD. 

After the lapse of fifteen years, our views 
of this great public act, of returning Europe, 
are not changed.* Notwithstanding the sneers 
which have been cast upon it, the holy alli- 
ance will never be blotted from the records of 



# The Christian Observer, at the time, styled it a " solemn 
recognition of the Supreme Authority of the great Sovereign of 
earth and heaven. 7 ' 



156 THE TELESCOPE. 

heaven — will never lose its importance in the 
annals of the world. Be it as some have sup- 
posed, a piece of state chicanery — the offspring 
of the hypocrisy of courts — a plan of the princes, 
to fix the nations in slavery ; what was it but 
Europe in the person of her hollow-hearted sove- 
reigns, sick of the vanities of her former con- 
fidence, humbling herself under the mighty hand 
of God ? The more just supposition is, that the 
princes were influenced by the discipline of 
Providence ; and that they, with their subjects, 
were awed into an acknowledgment of the 
Scriptures, and of God : were bowed to the 
authority, under the auspices of which they had 
triumphed over the atheistical empire. No won- 
der that the conquerors, were awe-struck at their 
victories ! when they found themselves triumph- 
ant on the spot where Christianity was threaten- 
ed with extermination ; at the fountain of that 
atheism, which was to have overspread the 
globe ! No wonder that they were awed to 
acknowledge the word of the Most High — 
the word of life ; and to welcome its light 
as the only blessing to Europe and the world ! 

Inconsistency has ensued ;— but the act is 
not blotted from the records of heaven ; and will 



THE TELESCOPE. 157 

never lose its importance in the annals of the 
world. In one sense, no doubt, the holy alli- 
ance was premature. The heart of Europe was 
not yet ready to obey the dictates of its con- 
science ; was not yet ready to adopt a treaty, 
which broke upon it like a sudden day-spring 
from on high ; the very dawning of the millen- 
nial morn. Europe has not been ready to fol- 
low her princes — her inconsistent and backslid- 
ing princes, have not been ready to lead their 
people, in paying the vows which their mouth 
had spoken in their trouble, and renewed in the 
first grateful moments of deliverance ; yet, on 
the records of heaven, and in the annals of man- 
kind, the holy alliance will remain, as a 
great preliminary movement, fore-showing the 
final submission of the nations, when kings 
shall be nursing fathers, and queens nursing 
mothers, in the church, — the kingdom of the 
King of kings ! 

It may be, that the inconsistent leader of that 
Christian treaty, was sincere in his effort to 
guide allied Europe to the God of the Bible, 
and that being forgiven for his defection from 
the cause he had so earnestly and successfully 
served, he was taken away from the evil to 



158 THE TELESCOPE. 

come. Yet, even now, that treaty is required 
at the hand of the nations — at the hand of the 
princes, who have forgotten the God of their 
deliverance ; and flourishing in the pride of 
their hearts, are faithless to the bond by which 
they or their predecessors bound the nations to 
Him, to whom alone power really belongs, our 
divine Saviour, the word of God. Alas, 
neither Europe nor her princes have humbled 
their heart, though they knew all this ; but have 
lifted up themselves against the Lord of Heaven, 
and have not glorified the God in whose hand 
their breath is, and whose are all their ways. 
Even now the handwriting of affliction and judg- 
ment, burns in characters of fire, on the walls of 
the palace of the Czar ; whether amidst his ex- 
ultations over Poland, or his fears lest the arch 
of empire should fall, or his plans of foreign war 
to widen its base and compact its parts. Nay, 
the writing is seen on all the high places, and in 
all the streets of Europe, whether for forewarn- 
ing and recovery, or for overthrow and ruin, who 
can interpret ? War has returned with its havoc, 
or its threatening, upon the lands which were 
solemnly bound to the Redeemer, by the holy 
alliance : while He that rules among men, 



THE TELESCOPE. 159 

stands ready to arrest and exceed the havoc of 
war, by the overflowing pestilence. 

Let not the nations be deceived, by the pause 
in the judgments of the Almighty : nor riot 
in the joys of a fancied escape from the over- 
whelming scourge. He who rules among men, 
and to whom allied Europe did homage half a 
generation ago, our divine Saviour — the word 

OF THE MOST HIGH, THE WORD OF LIFE Can nOW, 

or when he will, gird his sword upon his thigh, 
and ride forth, King of kings and Lord of 
lords. He can array the passions of courts and 
nations, which they will not restrain, and let 
them loose as the instruments of mutual slaugh- 
ter ; or he can lead on the pestilence : — the chol- 
era, at which the world stands aghast, or other 
pestilence from the store-house of his judgments; 
a scourge over Christian Europe, as overwhelm- 
ing as its opportunity has been great, and its 
vows public and distinct. Who does not per- 
ceive the signs of the times ? Who does not see 
that He to whom alone poaver really be- 
longs, is looking down upon the nations, who 
have taken counsel against the Lord, and against 
his anointed, to cast away the cords of 1S15 : 
yet still, while war for a moment grounds its 



160 THE TELESCOPE. 

arms,* and pestilence stays its havoc, saying 
in accents of utmost kindness, " kiss the Son 
lest He be angry, and ye perish from the way. 

Blessed are all them that put their 

trust in Him." 

Yes, and over France ; whose desecrated cap- 
ital welcomed the princes, when they paid in 
her streets, the homage of allied Europe, unto 
God ; and whose approving voice was given to 
the holy alliance, the voice of warning sound- 
eth loud ; mingled still with the sweet accents 
of mercy. Can she escape the contest and the 
trial if it come, when all Europe shall rush to- 
gether for carnage and destruction, with a con- 
flict of passion more universal and more deadly, 
than ever before she broke her returning vows ? 
or escape the pestilence which can dash her 
glory like a potter's vessel ? 

And England ; that happy nation, which 
amidst the storms, of infidelity welcomed 
and speeded the word of life rising over the 
nations ; and when the reason of maddened 
Europe was restored, was found sitting under 
its meridian glory, shining over London, Bri- 

* March 9, 1832, in view of intelligence to January 21st. 



THE TELESCOPE. 161 

tain and the world, is not excepted from the warn- 
ing, while she hears still in sweetest, loudest 
chorus, the accents of mercy. For while the 
sounds of foreign war, and internal contentions 
call her forth to mingle in the wasting conflicts 
of men, and pestilence stands smiting her 
uttermost border, the kindness which she minis- 
ters to Europe and the world, is re-echoed to her 
heart, from many a family, and village, and 
island, and nation, joyous in the word of life 
published by her sons. 

And America, far from the strifes of men ; 
with the wide Atlantic, as her cordon, against 
the march of the cholera. Is not she forewarn- 
ed 1 Is not she invited to the Redeemer ? Let 
England and America, allied in the great work 
of saving mankind, accept the forewarning : 
and as they see the ruin which threatens to 
involve the nations, let them hear the voice, 
"Come out from among them, that ye be not 
partakers of their plagues;" and renew their 
counsels, and increase their efforts for spreading 
the w T ord of life over the world. 

But amidst the forebodings of the storm, let us 

hope for something better than infatuation and 

destruction among the afflicted and threat- 
14 



162 THE TELESCOPE. 

ened nations. Let us hope that northern and 
southern Europe will note the footsteps of their 
abused Redeemer ; that they will be forewarned 
by the first skirmishes of the great battle, which 
is yet to purify the world ; — and whether amidst 
the thunder and the storm, or the intervening 
calm, will hear the assurance, Blessed are all 
they that put their trust in Him. Sure, con- 
science will awake, and the melted heart flow 
forth in all the palaces of Europe, in all her 
cities, and villages, and families, and the golden 
promise of cleaving to the Lord, will come forth 
again out of the furnace of affliction ; and the 
banner of another holy alliance, will be un- 
furled, and the nations of Europe and the world, 
sit down together in peace and holiness, under 
the meridian light of the word of God, shining 
over London, Britain, Europe and the globe L 



THE GANGES; AND THE MISSISSIPPI. 



It is impossible to cast one's eye upon the 
map of the world, without perceiving a striking 
resemblance between the two great rivers of In- 
dia and the United States ; and those wide and 
fertile districts, through which they pursue their 
long pathway to the ocean. The resemblance 
prepares the mind to dwell with intenser interest 
upon contrasted views, which force themselves 
upon it ; and upon the prospects which faith 
opens to the eye, when those well watered re- 
gions shall be equally glorious under the reign 
of the Redeemer. 

The Ganges, that king of Asiatic rivers, flow- 
ing from the actual heights of the world — the 
mountain tops of Himalaya, claims to itself the 
oriental title of heaven descended Gunga ; and a 
divine origin from the forehead of Mahesa, 

" When Gunga from his brow, by heavenly fingers press'd, 
Sprang radiant, and descending, graced the caverns of the west. 1 ' 



164 THE TELESCOPE. 

As she flows through the most fertile regions 
of the earth, the means of food and raiment, and 
the channel of intercourse to bordering millions, 
she passes as a goddess of beneficence, scatter- 
ing her gifts in rich profusion, and receiving by 
her side, and in her sacred bosom, the vows and 
the reverence of her worshippers ; from age to 
age : even now, the homage and the offering and 
the victim, amidst the light and improvements of 
the modern world. 

Alas ! that in far distant times, the gifts of the 
Creator, the bounties of Providence, should have 
been so abused by the perverseness of man ; that 
when they knew God, they refused to glorify 
Him as God, and worshipped and served the 
creature, rather than the Creator. Alas ! that 
along this mighty river, these ever fertile plains, 
kindness did not win the ancients to their Ma- 
ker ; — that when the fountains of posterity were 
opened, and the streams were enlarged, on which 
millions after millions, were to flow in successive 
ages, they were polluted so heedlessly ; that light 
was turned to darkness, wisdom to folly, religion 
to idolatry, as the inheritance of unnumbered 
immortals ; passing their pilgrimage and oppor- 
tunity, worshippers, of the rivers, and the trees, 



THE TELESCOPE. 165 

and all animated nature, and men, and shape- 
less idols, until bewildered fancy could imagine 
three hundred and thirty millions of gods ! 

That branch of the Ganges, most familiarly 
known to Europeans, is the Hoogley ; which 
passing Calcutta, the capital of British India, 
empties itself into the bay of Bengal, we may 
say between two remarkable Teert'hu St'ha- 
nu — places of salvation, to which the Hindoos 
have been accustomed to resort, that return- 
ing, or ne'er returning, they might bear witness 
that the people hold a perpetual lie in their right 
hand. Strange, that for ages, Gunga should have 
been adored as heaven descended, and been vis- 
ited in ceaseless pilgrimage — and been born to be 
worshipped over all India ; when she empties her- 
self unceasingly, as between the jaws of some 
nether hell ; as the only proper outlet to a stream, 
whose bosom swells from its uttermost heights, 
with the dying victims of superstition, from hoary 
age to the first breath of infancy ! 

The grand landmark by which this mouth of 
the Ganges is approached, is the temple of Jug- 
gunath, on the coast of Orissa ; the temple of 
the ruler of the world : how fearful a symbol of 
the eruelty of that religion, which has consecrat- 
14* 



166 THE TELESCOPE. 

ed Gunga ; whose waters without much stretch 
of fancy, may be said to wash its base as on 
its western bank ; how fearfully showing, in its 
annual groans, and death — and in the whitening 
bones of men, covering the country round, for 
fifty miles, what havoc man makes of himself, 
when for the creature he forsakes the Creator. 
On leaving the temple of Juggiinath, the voyager, 
losing sight of land, sails eastward for the pilot 
ground, bordering the sand heads, formed by the 
influx of the mouths of the Ganges. On receiv- 
ing a pilot, the dangerous passage is accomplish- 
ed in a few hours, and the Hoogley is entered, 
washing on its eastern shore, the celebrated 
island of Saugor, the other place of salvation, 
to which we have referred as an emblem and 
symbol of that cruel religion, which Gunga 
patronizes from the foot of the mountains of 
Himalaya to the bay of Bengal — a fearful spot, 
guarded by the fiercest tygers and alligators, and 
sending up from deep jungles exhalations of 
death ; yet frequented twice a year by vast 
crowds, when many sacrifice themselves, and 
many a mother casts her helpless infant into 
the alligator's jaws, or leaves it the tyger's prey. 
Unhappy land ! How strong the current of thy 



THE TELESCOPE. 167 

sin ! How increasing the stream as it has flowed 
from age to age :— thy passing generations, refus- 
ing still to worship the uncreated Bremh, ever 
lingering in the borders of thy perverse mythology : 
refusing still to worship the author of thy annual 
rains, gathering over heavens of brass ; who 
makes thy seasons fruitful, and fills thee with 
food and gladness: refusing still to learn the les- 
son which tradition mingled with thy false reli- 
gion, and choosing but the dregs of the patriar- 
chal stream — refusing too the gospel ; of which 
remnants, few and feeble, prove thee a rejecter 
of the good news published to all nations. 

Yet, India, there are healing streams for thee. 
There is a heaven descended river, which will 
yet flow through thy plains, and will drop down 
in rain, and distil in dew with the waters of sal- 
vation ; each drop of which, like the fabled Gun- 
ga, abounds with life, and is the precursor of the 
ever-flowing stream ; and as it flows amidst thy 
realms of death, it will raise thy people with a 
power so great and so benign, as amidst thy gath- 
ered, listening crowds, was never fancied of the 
sons of Sugurii.* Thou hast become wearied in 



* 60,000 sons of Suguru were restored from their ashes, ac- 
cording to the legend, by the descent of Gunga. 



1(38 THE TELESCOPE. 

the greatness of thy way ; long lost in the mazes 

of the wisdom of the East, — in self-confidence 

and pride. Even now, thou hast begun to 

receive from the fools of the West, the streams of 

salvation. From Britain, from Europe, from 

America, from thy sister valley, thou sh alt receive 

the full stream of the gospel, and thy 100,000,000, 

and thy 400,000,000, shall rise in a spiritual and 

immortal life." 

But we turn to view the river — the rivers 

of the West, for ages watering and fattening 
their fertile valley, to be settled in the fulness of 
times, when the lessons of all ages should be 
ripened on the human mind, and its growing 
millions might be only blessed and a blessing : 

Flowing in reserve: until the arts of men, 
struggling upwards, through the hindrances op- 
posed by sin and Satan, should be ready to bless 
the valley of the West, covering its plains with 
every boon of life ; traversing, with ease, its im- 
petuous rivers, and binding it, with its Eastern 
and Western neighbors, and the world, in useful 
and harmonious intercourse, giving and receiving 
all that can adorn and comfort the home of man ; 

*Mr. Ward supposes lhat ali Eastern Asia, including China, 
is under the influence of Hindooism. 



THE TELESCOPE. 169 

— until the institutions of our pilgrim fathers, and 
the wisdom of Washington and his compatriots, 
and the British constitution, like the oak of Brit- 
ain, spreading its branches, and strengthening 
its roots, beneath the storms which break off its 
rotten, useless limbs, should have given the oppor- 
tunity of sheltering the happy valley under the pro- 
tecting shade of a just, beneficent, and enduring 
government ; wide enough to cover the mountains 
and the shores from sea to sea ; — until the pow- 
ers of the common mind should be understood, 
and education should have descended with her 
offer of knowledge into all the walks of life ; and 
science should have become habited in the peo- 
ple's mother tongue, and the school, and the 
academy, and the lyceum, and the press, should 
be ready for the welcome of its growing popula- 
tion. 

Flowing in reserve : until that boon was ready 
for a universal reception, which, received in part, 
had thus prepared the conveniences, and com- 
forts, and growing knowledge for an earthly para- 
dise ; — until the idolatry of the ancient and 
modern world should have been seen by fearful 
exhibitions, as the offspring and the parent of 
vice and misery ; and superstition had shown 



170 THE TELESCOPE. 

what guilt and folly she could clothe in the gar- 
ments of Christianity ; what malice, and misery, 
and blood she could lead on under the banner of 
the gospel ; and the nations, some in repentance, 
and some in disgust, had cast her chains, that 
man might reject all human lords from the tem- 
ple of his worship, and come to the word of life, 
as the fountain of salvation ; and infidelity, the 
daughter of superstition, had broken her promise 
to mankind ; — until it was proved, by the ripened 
experience of all times, that neither idolatry, nor 
superstition, nor infidelity, have the promise of 
the life that now is, or that which is to come. 
And, at length, free from the priestcraft of su- 
perstition, and free from the priestcraft of infi- 
delity, fearless of the papal frown, or the wicked 
man's sneer, the gathering people might wait on 
the message from heaven, and the Bible, con- 
firmed by the growing history of all times, first 
meet a universal welcome in the valley of the 
West, and a Christian people, the influx of all 
Christian nations, be cemented as one, by be- 
lieving and obeving the word of life. 

Flowing in reserve: until amidst the glories of 
the age of propagation, the gathering crowds from 
all Christian lands might know their privilege to 



THE TELESCOPE. 171 

welcome to their heart the healing light, and to 
speed it through the world ; to receive and to con- 
vey the waters of salvation : and all the paths of 
emigration, eastern, western, northern, southern, 
might seem none other than the way of holiness, 
covered w T ith the ransomed of the Lord ; while 
forth from every avenue, blessings should flow 

abroad upon the nations Until, may 

we not say, Faith, matured by Providence for 
ages, and revived and cheered by success in all 
lands, had gained strength for the most difficult 
achievement, in the recovery of two races of men, 
lingering on the borders of the happy valley, 
almost until now, in hopeless despondency ; un- 
til the light reflected from the islands of the Pa- 
cific, from Caffraria and Guinea, and from Brai- 
nerd and Eliot, might shine upon the dark, ill- 
boding clouds, in the blest assurance, The things 
that are impossible with men are possible with 
God; inviting to that heavenly skill and power, 
which may fix the remnant children of the Forest, 
in such goodly gardens, as shall make them 
lovely and beloved, in the future history of our 
country. 

Nay, until that cloud, which even now lowers 
with the bursting storm, might seem glowing to the 
eye of faith with the most cheering of all encour- 



172 THE TELESCOPE. 

agements, The things that are impossible 
with men, are possible with God ; when every 
feeling of despondency might be changed into 
prayer, and the hearts of tens of thousands ask 
wisdom of Him who will not upbraid when they 
ask His guidance, in recovering a state of soci- 
ety * in which master and servant are alike un- 
happy ; until, as of old over the tabernacles of Is- 
rael, a guiding pillar shall be seen. It does not 
become the writer to oresume to foresee whither 



*The writer believes that the great question of the welfare of the 
servile population of the South will never be fairly met by tbe mingled 
benevolence of the country, until at the North, we regard their condi- 
tion in the same light, as we do any other unhappy state of society 
which modern benevolence attempts to relieve ; that, for instance, of 
the idolaters of India; — instead of urging the irritating charge of a 
crime. Viewing slave-holding as a crime, it were difficult to decide 
which were the most guilty, the masters, who by birth-right, hold the 
peasantry in a servile state j or the slaves, who by the same tenure, 
hold the masters in a state of mastership ; a bondage more severe and 
more fearful than their own. As a state of society, generated like all 
other existing evils, in the errors of former times, it is bad; a consid- 
erate master sees it to be so, without casting the blame upon the 
slave, who holds him in the unhappy condition of owner; as a con- 
siderate slave may be supposed to do, without casting blame upon 
the master, who holds him in the condition of servility. It certainly 
becomes us at the North, who, without our care or payment, are 
placed in neither predicament, instead of blaming either, or calling for 
a disruption of society, ruinous to both parties, to unite with all the 
kindness and wisdom of the South in those measures, which may pro- 
duce a gradual change, to the mutual advantage of all. Enough has 
been seen of the progress of society, under wise Christian appli- 
cations at the present day to show that gradual, means neither slug- 
gish nor slow. As to crime, they will be guilty, whether at the South 
or North, slave holders or- spectators, who refuse to apply the prin- 
ciples of this age of benevolence to an unhappy state of society; who 
waste their time and talents either in indolence or reproaches; and 
refuse to labor in hope, even against hope, that He who has released 
Polynesia from a worse bondage, will guide a Christian people in the 
attempt to bless their own servile population. 






THE TELESCOPE. 173 

that pillar will guide the steps of a thoughtful and 
praying people ; how the triumph will be gained 
over one of the most difficult problems of human 
society. Yet, as we look, we cannot fail to see 
in no distant prospect, Africa — desolated, afflict- 
ed Africa, released from the oppression of the 
slave-dealer and his allies, her cruel and avari- 
cious princes, and from the worship of gods and 
devils ; — and on the Senegal, and the Gambia, and 
the Mesurado, and the coast of the gulf of Guin- 
ea, inward to the Niger, and the Mountains 
of the Moon, a people renovated and blessed by 
their returning sons ; — the children returning to 
their mother's bosom, with the word of life ! And 
at home, that wisdom which Britain was reluctant 
to learn on the shores of the Ganges ; gaining by 
instruction, and kindness a sway over a virtuous 
and religious people, such as can never be held 
over ignorant and vicious minds; and in ways, 
which prayer is yet to learn of the infinitely wise, 
blessing the African race more rapidly than a 
growing population can be removed from our 
shores ; so that while one division of the stormy 
cloud passes on, to drop down over Africa the sav- 
ing dew and rain of the Word of God, the other 
may become the adorning of our own horizon. 
15 



174 THE TELESCOPE. 

Flowing in reserve : that the happy valley 
might have its settlement in the morning of earth's 
millenium ; that one spot on earth might form its 
habits at such an auspicious era, that at the last 
coming of the Redeemer, no rod of iron might 
need to be stretched forth over it, no potter's 
vessel to be dashed in pieces, no flesh of captains 
to be given to the fowls of the air, but blessed, 
and a blessing might welcome his coming ; that 
one spot on earth might be settled under such 
happy influences, as might sanctify its beginning 
and its progress ; and its tide of people, swelling 
from age to age, might flow into the ocean of 
immortal bliss, welcomed as they come to the 
bosoms of the patriarchs, who opened the foun- 
tains and enlarged the streams of a posterity so 
glorious ; — who led the way first to the rivers 
and the valley of the West, and thence to the 
paradise above, while angels, who rejoice over 
one redeemed, sound their welcome in chorus 
of rejoicings. * 

Here Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Louisville, St. 
Louis, Natchez, New Orleans, fulfilling their 
promised numbers in their growing history, rise 
upon our view, centres of Christian influence, 
more hallowed than the famous cities of the 
Ganges ; and the Ohio, the Mississippi, the Mis- 



THE TELESCOPE. ]75 

souri, the Arkansas, flowing by other hallowed 
cities yet to rise, and by the well tilled and fruit- 
ful farms and gardens of a virtuous people, a 
multitude won by the kindness of the Creator to 
his worship ; while the matron states of the East, 
and the daughters of the farthest West, shall be 
bound to the central valley by the cords of filial 
and maternal love ; and the Union, from sea to 
sea, be secured by that divine covenant which 
subdues the heart of man ; by that oath which 
calls to witness the sun for a light by day, and 
the moon for a light by night, shining over it, 
and all the waves of the Atlantic and the Pacific 
roaring on its shores. 

Yet fancy is no fool — no alien to reason and 
truth ; and in the glowing prospect sees that there 
is an option ; that only by practising the lessons 
of ages ; by yielding to the principles displayed 
in the history of centuries ; by co-operating with 
the means which divine Providence offers to the 
times ; by believing that it is possible with God 
to direct and aid the work which he demands of 
men, can the valley of the West possess its priv- 
ilege. If the prospect shall arise and become a 
speedy and glorious reality, it will be because the 
settlers of the West, at such a time as never 
rolled on before, and in such favorable circum- 



176 THE TELESCOPE. 

stances as never existed before, are such a studi- 
ous, watchful, active, prayerful race, as never, on 
sea or river, laid the foundations of empire be- 
fore. If it shall rise, the East will continue and 
increase their efforts for the West ; and the West 
will welcome all the aid which the East will or 
can bestow ; yet multiplying it a thousand fold ; 
as their peerless valley, receiving the head waters 
of the rivers which enrich and adorn it, con- 
tributes ten thousand streamlets from its own 
bosom to increase them as they flow, and dis- 
tills the dew, and drops down the rain on 
every field and plant ; thus forming a bond of 
union as gentle and as everlasting as binds the 
Ohio to the Alleghany and Monongahela, and 
that double river to the mountains and fountains 
of the East. 

If this glowing prospect shall become a reality, 
it will be because opportunity is met by a spirit 
of self-improvement, such as never gave impulse 
to infant state before ; showing in every village 
and hamlet, amidst the humblest walks and works, 
such wisdom and refinement as were wont to be 
shown only on the high places and leisure grounds 
of society. It will be because science, educa- 
tion, philosophy, whether coming to the high or 
low, has laid aside her self-sufficiency, nor ven- 



THE TELESCOPE. 177 

tures to teach her disciples with their eye with- 
drawn from the Infinitely Wise . . . because, 
with her demon cast out, Philosophy sits, with 
her train of disciples, at the feet of Jesus in her 
right mind, preserving thus the valley of the West 
from entering such a maze of folly and ruin as 
was opened by the boastful, baneful wisdom of 
the East : because the growing people look up- 
ward to the Prince and Saviour, asking and 
receiving that gift of the Spirit, which even now 
is poured forth, claiming the universal welcome 
of the valley of the West, because they join the 
company which publishes the gospel — blessed, by 
blessing others. 

Happy land ! Wilt thou be blessed and a 
blessing ? Ye emigrants from the Atlantic shore, 
descending the rivers and the lakes : ye people 
of all Christian lands, — will ye enter on your in- 
heritance, harvesting the ripened wisdom of 
ages ? Free from the bondage of superstition, 
and the licentiousness of irreligion, will ye in- 
herit your fertile valley, in the liberty of the gos- 
pel ? Or shall we look again — unwilling — down 
the vista of a people, false to their opportunity ; 
traitors to posterity ? . . See those clouds of 
smoke, once ready to vanish away, thickened 
again and covering the whole valley with one 



178 THE TELESCOPE. 

dark cloud, underneath which the liquid fire 
parts from its harmless companions, that it may 
be poured into the bosoms of a vicious people, 
and speed them on in folly, debauchery, and vio- 
lence ! See those hapless families wasted with 
poverty amidst the riches of the valley of the 
West ; those hamlets, villages, continuing late at 
the cup in contention and blood, amidst the beau- 
ties of those moonlight evenings ; and breaking 
even the chains of debauchery to desecrate those 
balmy mornings with violence and wrong ! . . . 
Hark ! — hear those oaths, mingled with loud 
laughter, the mockery of happiness ! Hear those 
yells of anger, more fearful than the ancient war 
whoop ! those loud voices, within that inn, amidst 
that liquid fire ; the horsewhip — the bludgeon — 
the pistol ! See genteel malice — murder in the 
garb of honor — the fashion of the times ! See 
those freemen at the polls, symbolizing the lib- 
erty of their inheritance, by ribaldry and oaths, 
and staggering, and bruises, and blood, and eye- 
less, ghastly countenances ! See that fearful pa- 
norama of a valley too fertile — opportunity too 
favorable ; of posterity cursed by the folly and 
the guilt of an ancestry self-wise ; posterity, wil- 
lingly polluted, until the gangrene spreading 



THE TELESCOPE. 179 

from the vitals shall have destroyed the whole 
body, and the republic shall lie a loathsome car- 
cass, the abhorring of all lands — from which the 
ransomed empires of the world shall turn to 
worship the Lord on a new earth, and under 
new heavens ! 

Alas ! the decision is at hand. The valley of 
the West, reserved for settlement in the last, best 
days, will not come to its crisis by the slow pro- 
cess of less favored times. Nay, the nations of 
the earth with it, on the heights of opportunity, 
will with it hasten to the crisis. The hopes of 
the world will not linger much longer on the sin 
and folly of man. The lesson of ages is nearly 
complete ; and the favored valley must welcome 
it to her heart, or be hastened to her ruin. If 
she will be faithless to her opportunity, and enter 
the mazes of superstition or irreligion, then will 
human passions hasten with more speed and more 
acrimony, than was ever known before, to the 
havoc of men, without waiting for the slow 
progress from licentiousness to despotism, and 
from despotism to revolution, in their partial, 
ceaseless round of desolation ; but rousing them- 
selves in all the subdivisions of society, will fill 
the land with violence and wrong ; or, since there 



180 THE TELESCOPE. 

is a power which, as of old, knows how to arrest 
the violence of men, human passions may be 
outstripped by the pestilence walking in darkness 
and raging at noon-day ; as has been only faintly 
shadowed on the banks of the Ganges ; sweeping 
the valley of the Mississippi, and the border 
heights of the Rocky and the Alleghany moun- 
tains, and the Atlantic and the Pacific shores,, 
until a \ mnant, great or small, shall welcome 
Him who ruleth over men ! 

But we turn with horror from the sight ; nay^ 
with hope, that the last great valley, reserved for 
settlement until now, will need neither human 
violence, nor judicial pestilence, to cleanse it for 
the millenial reign of the Son of man ; no 
breaking with a rod of iron ; no dashing in pieces 
like a potter's vessel: no giving of the flesh of 
captains to the fowls of the air : that one spot on 
earth, reserved for settlement in the happiest 
times, shall so early and so fully yield to the Re- 
deemer, that only in mercy shall it see the signs 
of his coming, until with unbroken harmony the 
Mississippi shall say to the Ganges, and the 
Ganges to the Mississippi, the Western to the 
Eastern, and the Eastern to the Western world, 
"Come ye, and let us walk in the light of 
the Lord." 



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